


Portal Experiments

by KuuraKaihomieli



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alien Biology, Angst, Dominant Hordak, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Masturbation, Mention of Medical Operation, Mention of blood, Oral Sex, Pining, Religious Conflict, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:29:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26935147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuuraKaihomieli/pseuds/KuuraKaihomieli
Summary: Hordak is sorely pining for Entrapta, and at the same time conflicted over his faltering devotion to his God. He must resolve his dilemma, but how? Storyline set to the middle of season 3. (Includes illustrations for chapters 2 and 6, see chapter notes for links.)
Relationships: Entrapta/Hordak (She-Ra)
Comments: 135
Kudos: 200





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first piece of fiction I have written in over half a decade, so please be gentle! I also apologize for any accidental similarities to existing stories within the same ship; I have only read a handful and I’m still relatively new to the fandom.

A bead of sweat rolled down the side of Hordak’s forehead. Chill emanated from the bare, metallic walls of the dim hallway, yet the flush shimmering on his face persisted, the red blotches stark against his livid skin. Neither did the nearly violent thrum of his heart want to stabilize. 

The warlord had not rushed fifty times around the floor after a cackling Imp, who had stolen yet another one of his tools. Nor had he wrestled a giant lava beast that had emerged from a prototype portal gone haywire. In fact, he was hiding behind a large metal contraption a couple of levels beneath his Sanctum. His visage and heart were not the only parts of his body acting up: The front of his robe was forming a Force Captain’s field tent turned ninety degrees sideways again. 

Hordak recognized by now that none of the symptoms pertained to his degenerative state. Recurrence, examination, and reading whatever materials he had at his disposal had at some time ago produced an answer. Nevertheless, a part of his mind still had problems accepting the obvious. 

Entrapta! She...she… No. Hordak could not blame  _ her _ as such for this humiliating indecency, could he? No, it was....her  _ proximity. _ Or...perhaps not merely that, but everything  _ related _ to her, yet not  _ her. _ It was not  _ her _ fault. 

How would he be able to make any sense out of this?

The reason for Hordak’s current predicament had occurred only some minutes ago. He had been running his own errands, his focus aimed at one of the most pressing dilemmas of the portal construction: the synchronization of time between Despondos and the universe outside this pocket dimension. Perhaps some portion of his mind had registered the faint scuffling sounds emanating from above, but it had been too late when the princess had randomly dropped out of a vent directly on top of him. As always, she had been speeding through the ventilation channels, and akin to Hordak, her concentration had pursued some novel idea to the point of her becoming blinded to her surroundings. 

Well. Hordak never became  _ quite _ so oblivious to the world around him, did he? However, that was how Entrapta’s magnificent mind functioned. When the gears in her skull spun top speed, she would bump into objects and become aloof. Then again, she seemed to dwell quite often in her own little universe -- not that he minded, as it was a beautiful cosmos filled with ingenuity and tolerance. 

This time, though, the collision had been...unseemly. She had ended up sprawling on top of him, her face a few centimeters away from his own. He had no inkling as to how some of her hair had succeeded to wrap itself around him: Perhaps she had noticed her trajectory in the last nanosecond, and attempted to push him aside. However, sorting out the knots slowed them down, and that only made her body press against him longer. 

It had all been accidental; that much Hordak could deduce from Entrapta’s flustered demeanor. Neither had been hurt, yet she had been concerned about the possible effects of the fall to his armor, and had wanted to check it before zooming off again. After all, it had a tendency to glitch once or twice a day, and improvements were crafted on-the-fly. However, Hordak had excused himself by concocting some hasty tale about an urgent military stratagem he had to discuss with the Force Captains. He had likely managed to hide his burning cheeks and ears into the shade of his high collar and that of the ceiling; his great height granted him that advantage. Yet, he had to,  _ had to _ flee before she...before she beheld his... 

Hordak grimaced in the dark. It was unbecoming of him, the warlord of an empire, to lurk thus in the hidey-holes of his own headquarters! What had that woman done to him?

His shameful arousal still rampant underneath the robe seemed to taunt him through the fabric. He had barely managed to hide his lust with his voluminous cloak; that garment had proved its worth already on several occasions. One such episode had occurred after the explosion of a portal prototype. Had he not pulled the princess away from the hazard and shielded her with his own armored frame, she would have perished, or at least would have been gravely injured by flying debris. Sometimes he wondered whether Entrapta possessed no natural sense of danger at all.

And, well… How her soft, small body had rested just under the shelter of his arm, ready to be comforted and drawn into a passionate embrace… Granted, Hordak had been in pain due to the malfunctioning old armor, yet also aching elsewhere. Aching to touch her, aching to feel her skin beneath his lips… Was it as soft and silky as it looked like? That beautiful, long arch of her neck, was it sensitive to caresses? Her bosom, oh… would she whimper softly in his arms, if he kissed and suckled those voluptuous curves?

Oh, he had been aching so much, yet had resolved to withdraw into the safety of his cloak. In hindsight, perhaps he ought to have succumbed to his desires and neither let her nor the opportunity slip away. The bloody armor could have waited. 

A small voice within his skull accused him of lechery and that Lord Prime had justly banished Hordak from His holy light. He was a loathsome monster, abject of body and soul. However, the recollections about the portal incident only goaded his sensual fantasies about Entrapta, and he blocked the rebuke. A fluttering sensation tickled his abdomen, and the heat in his loins was becoming unbearable. 

Oh, perhaps he could have slowly peeled off every piece of her clothing while she had lain on the floor, revealing all that lush sensuality concealed away by the stiff, baggy coveralls, and let his lips explore every new area of bare skin thus unveiled. Or he could have shredded them away all at once with his claws, and then begin devouring her, ravenous for the succulence of her naked body. 

The sheer idea made him salivate, and his tongue flicked over his massive fangs. His vision was filled with Entrapta’s soft smile, limned in the halo of arousal. How would she appear in the throes of passion, her eyes closed, moaning as he caressed and filled her? Her lips slightly parted as her head rested against his chest, a flush of rapture making her cheeks glow... 

The front of Hordak’s robe started twitching. Horrified, he snapped awake from the reveries, the rational part of his mind finally taking control. He attempted to push down the fabric, but to no avail. No, no, no, not this! It was all going too far! He would need to purge the obscenities about Entrapta entirely from his mind to end this debauchery. 

The problem was that he  _ wanted _ to linger in the fantasies and further feed his arousal. Entrapta defied everything Lord Prime’s doctrine told about the ‘lowly worms wriggling in filth’, in other words, the lesser beings on those solar systems Hordak had conquered in multitudes in the past. Was he losing his belief in yet another one of His commandments? 

He  _ was _ the one and only God, was he not? But, Entrapta… And what of these  _ other _ infallibilities he had discovered in Lord Prime’s supposed omniscience and absolute dominance? 

These notions were not recent. As time had flown past, Hordak had uncovered that he could conceal some of his thoughts from the Hive Mind and his Maker Himself. That ought to have been impossible. Just as implausible was his desire to look different from the other clones, and the urge to name himself, rather than remain a mere anonymous Brother. Besides, if everything Prime touched became perfection, how had his cloning process miscarried so? Was not Hordak  _ himself _ something that ought to have never existed? 

Hence, what about Entrapta? 

She had feelings for  _ him _ . That aspect he could not deny any longer. She appeared to have some problems reading expressions and body language, yet Hordak had studied the behavior and habits of Etherian creatures in an extensive manner. In part it had related to his research on creating himself a healthy body, in part to comprehend the inner workings of the military structure he was forming. He had amassed a sizable library about topics ranging from various Etherian dialects to the mating habits of the local species. 

He had glimpsed at her soft smiles from the corner of his eye for quite some time now. Recently, they had been more frequent and open, sometimes adjoined with a dreamy, foolish gaze, as if she were… No, she could not be fantasizing about  _ him _ , could she? Nononono no no. He was overreaching with his deductions, and almost wanted to slap himself for even considering such disrespect towards her.

Nevertheless, after her intangibly sweet words about his blemished, dysfunctional frame being beautiful, his own doubts about her disposition had melted away. One could compare her expressions to the graphics in one of the old hardcopies from King Scorpio’s collection, or...plain savor the fondness in her regard, how she took initiative to touch him with her hair, or... Well, that fluster moments ago told the same tale. Hence, was his counter-reaction to her such an indecency? According to the texts, that was how one’s physical faculties responded to attraction. If such emotional states were mutual, was it not merely pursuing the established laws of nature? The creatures on this planet...hmh...courted one another in various ways, displayed affection with certain gestures, and then copulated by stimulating specific organs. They did not reproduce by cloning either, so some of the process served as a means of finding a fertilizer for an egg cell to combine DNA. Those were the technical aspects, yet all of this seemed...so much  _ more _ .

Hordak had hitherto declared himself utterly different from the inhabitants of Etheria, but perhaps that was a fallacy. He had his...anatomical deviations, indeed, but on a general level he seemed to be bound to the same laws of nature. 

Yet... 

He let out a sharp hiss of frustration and sunk his claws into the hard steel of the contraption next to him.  _ Wherefore must this be so difficult? _ Why, oh  _ why _ could he not pursue the perfection of Prime’s holy commandments? 

The dissonant screeching sound of his claws dragging across the surface matched the clamor in his skull. Why could he no longer believe that Horde Prime was the almighty Savior of the Multiverse, the only being worthy of bathing in the light of galaxies? Why had God created a shattered image of Himself, if He was perfect? 

As Hordak battled his thoughts, his wandering gaze fell upon the front of his robe. The view made him sigh in relief: The fabric lay straight and smooth over his groin again. The dilemma over doctrine and Lord Prime’s godhood had apparently overpowered the lust. 

That notion made him more aware of his entire situation. What was that odd reek permeating the air? How long had he dallied here, cringing behind what he now recognized as one of the larger sewage hubs? 

He sniffed at the air again, grimacing at the disgusting odor. Had it befouled the corridor all this time, occluded only by Entrapta’s lingering scent in his nostrils? There must be a leak somewhere, as the well-sealed pipes never announced their presence that harshly. 

Hordak brought a hand closer to his face, ready to cover his sensitive nose. However, he halted midway through, as he realized the obvious, and spun about to stare at the deep furrows in the side of the pipe. Sewage was dribbling out in small rivulets and pooling on the floor close to his boots. 

He had struck his claws directly into the damned pipe. In his apparent angst, he had dragged them about half a meter downwards, changed direction, and repeated the same sideways. His hands were just as monstrous as everything else about him, disproportionately large with long, thick fingers. Whenever he more or less spontaneously fantasized about Entrapta, he could not shake off the recollection of pulling her away from the exploding portal, his single hand engulfing hers and about half of her forearm at the same time. Hence, he might inadvertently wreak quite some havoc due to his sheer size. 

The warlord was glad he had never brought the offending limb into contact with his face. Noisome sludge was trickling down his fingers, and if anything, the sight made any last vestiges of erotic daydreams desert his mind. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a sketch illustration for this chapter. It’s a standalone piece for another purpose, however the mental image affected my writing before sketching it. It pertains to Hordak’s fantasy about embracing a flustered Entrapta. You can find the image [here](https://kuurankaiho.tumblr.com/post/632165699493740544/a-sketch-for-the-entrapdak-positivity-month-day).

Sometime later, Hordak had consulted a janitor and arranged for immediate mends to the pipe, in addition to having well sanitized his hands. He had left a baffled repair crew to astonish over the ferocious fiend that had somehow snuck in, left its claw marks on a single piece of solid steel, and then vanished without a trace. When the warlord was stomping off, he caught a frightened voice behind him describing a hairy, 12-foot-tall, fanged beast-monster that might now haunt the corridors and gobble alive all things it set its hideous glare upon...

Hordak snorted at the inane prattle. Well, the threat would keep them guarding the premises in a more efficient manner. After all, Shadow Weaver had escaped and was biding her time in a location unsung: a hazard to his entire empire. The Horde could afford no laxness in vigilance. 

Now, however, he was approaching his Sanctum, which rendered his steps more guarded. Could Entrapta have returned in the meanwhile, and now perchance tinkered with some fabulous invention within? What if...what if he-

His pacing halted. The  _ clank clank clank _ of his metallic heels continued echoing for a few seconds in the desolate gloom of the corridor. When they died, only the hum of some distant generator offered him company. 

He had just realized he could not prolong this farce any more. It had become unbearable to keep recoiling into the shelter of his cloak like some bloody coward. Entrapta had spellbound him, entrapped him into this infernal limbo of lurid desires and unhinged bodily responses. By the holy light of Lord Prime, what...what options could he pursue?

Hordak frowned. Well...the exact number of choices had dwindled down to two, as he no longer could ignore the restlessness of his mind and heart. 

He could either send Entrapta away, never to be seen or heard again, or...he could succumb and address her instead. 

The sheer idea of the first option made him feel nauseous. He could not... he  _ never _ could...that tiny, cheerful creature with her unbridled enthusiasm and intellect, he- he never could…

His heart lurched in an uncomfortable manner, and he gulped down the disgusting taste that had risen up to his palate. Even his eyes were malfunctioning: An odd prickling sensation was making him blink furiously. What...what was wrong with him? He had ceased fantasizing about her for the moment, yet still his physique continued acting as if deranged. Had the new armor actually suffered from the fall, or  _ was _ his defect at fault? He had never felt anything alike when disposing of troublesome underlings in the past. When someone ceased to provide worth or turned into an obstacle along his path, they became otiose, a failure. Was that not Lord Prime’s doctrine? 

Doctrine or not, he knew in his deepest marrow that this could never be a valid option either. Besides, with whom could he discuss the beauty of stars and distant galaxies, the joys of solving an enigmatic equation, or the curiosities of the sub-quantum realm?

Nobody. Nobody in this Prime-forsaken barbarous planet dwelling in the cloaca of the cosmos could parallel her. He would be alone again. Oh, so alone, like all those decades before... 

He stared at the scratched, greenish wall assembled from the wreckage of his spaceship several decades ago. Had it truly been...that long? He could immerse into his experiments and forget the ticking of time for a moment, but the haunting loneliness had always gnawed at his heart. Coming to terms with the separation from the Hive Mind had required the better part of the first decade; it had been a shock of devastating magnitudes to hear only silence within his mind. He had slowly accepted the ensuing hollow feeling as his perpetual companion. Imp had provided some consolation during the recent years, but the melancholy had started properly withdrawing thanks to Entrapta, and he never again wanted to wallow in the misery it conveyed. 

Therewith, he realized the nature of the perplexing mood that had momentarily overwhelmed him. It was...it was the same grief that had struck him after God had banished him from His heavenly order. He had been severed from the Perfection he had loved unconditionally, and now…Entrapta...

_ Did he, in fact, love her?  _

Yet, did not all adoration belong solely to Lord Prime? Was he not, the filthy abomination that he was, practicing idolatry?

His mind a tangle of confusion and budding vehemence, Hordak resumed his steps. He could not cast her away; to damnation with that pious screeching in his head! So, he possessed but a single choice. He would have to confess to her that...that  _ what _ ? That he desired to...touch her? Kiss her? Perhaps he could...surprise her? He could wait for one of those occurrences when she did not wear the little, plum-hued top that so blasphemously dared to conceal the divine beauty of her long neck. He would kneel beside her, engulf her delectable form with his embrace, and caress the back of her neck and her shoulders with his lips. Oh, he would find out if the smooth skin on her neck  _ was _ as sensitive to touch as it looked like...

She would be flustered at first, indeed, but melt into his arms, as he sought the tender areas of her neck. He would let his kisses linger there, while his fingers quested for the heavenly softness of her bosom… Oh how he would fondle her, slow yet thorough, prolonging the pleasure, reveling in how she would quiver against his- 

Hordak felt a stirring in his loins again. No, no, no! He was not going to erect another bloody tent in the middle of the corridor today! With a groan, he swirled about, and began retracing his path.

Fine, he could weave titillating oneirisms of her and ogle his insatiable arousal in his own chambers, but he would cease cowering behind his cloak! The problem was that his lust stood out as too prominent, and others present could probably spot it a kilometer away. He loathed bifurcations of all manner, and had shunned wearing undergarments throughout his decades on Etheria. Those detestable, chafing botherations prevented a healthy current of air reaching his privates, not to mention the feeling of utter strangulation down there. Entrapta, on the contrary…she appeared ravishing in tubular clothing. He had been lately relishing how the fabric of her overalls clung tight to her shapely behind. Or how her succulent bosom was heaved up, when she donned the suspenders.

Now...if he did furnish his lower body with something additional, any future... _ issues _ would not push the front of the robe so much forward. He could remain in Entrapta’s presence sans shaming himself and shocking her. 

Decency would necessitate the sacrifice of this one comfort. 

It did not take the warlord long to reach the uniform storage. For now, a ready-made garment would have to suffice; perchance later he could fabricate something looser with his own hands, when he had become accustomed to the feel of stifling constriction. Upon entering, he surprised a dozing soldier, who scampered out after a growl from him. 

Flummoxed, Hordak wandered among the shelves of neatly folded uniforms. He was not certain of what he was seeking. A strap of some kind? Something knee-high? No, the raiment could not obstruct the high slits in his robe. That much he was not ready to forfeit. 

He discovered a promising shelf after a few fruitless attempts. The underpants were ordered by size; all of them had the basic shape of two short tubular parts sewn together. Some of them had an opening in the middle, which supposedly aided members of his Horde in certain activities. Frowning, he lifted up a pair that seemed like a decent match for his girth and which might accommodate the sheer size of his shaft. The fabric did not feel itchy against the back of his hand, but what about the sensitive skin of his nether regions? Besides, what if…

He poked one long finger through the hole. What if his manhood merely shot out of it when lasciviousness conquered his mental faculties? Or when it began...squirming? No, he could not hazard such a calamity. Besides, that voided the entire purpose of his sudden necessity for undergarments. 

After snarling and glowering at the offending garments, he opted for something flaunting fewer openings. They were a little longer, and might just flash from beneath the robe’s slits, but the standard-issue uniform did not embrace too many styles. Grumbling, he ascertained that the storage room’s door was locked from the inside, and unlatched his grieves and sabatons. Pulling the un-holey shorts on required some wriggling, but the absolute worst was arranging his shaft to sit snugly against his skin. While still in Lord Prime’s sacred service, he had been forced to don such habiliments, and had found them both inaesthetic and cumbersome whilst walking. He would have a bloody weird gait reminiscent of a duck for days, and Entrapta was bound to notice. 

His ears slumping in annoyance, the warlord stalked out of the storage room. Ah yes...the sweet little thing might lack the ability to read social interactions, but she had the keenest eye for details of other ilk. If he exhibited a quarter of a millimeter of white root growth in his hair, she would spot it from the other side of Etheria and rush at him with measuring tape and a recorder at hand. 

Well...another harebrained story awaited for concoction, unless he managed to…

A deep frown still wrinkling his brow, Hordak reached his Sanctum. As the tripartite door hissed and shuddered open, he peered into the umbrageous space. Nothing stirred in the green glow of the cloning vats and monitors. The hour was growing late, and the princess might have withdrawn into her own quarters. Then again, if he had to confront her now-

No, he was done with excuses! He was done with cringing and fleeing! If he indeed loved her, he would be insulting her with such behavior. Should he meet her now, he would stay and savor her presence. 

Nevertheless, Hordak quietly sighed with relief, as he passed the vitrines and the silent fetuses floating in their fluids; nobody else occupied the laboratory. One desk was littered with charts and old hardcopies related to the ongoing issue about time dilation, and how it might affect the synchronization of Despondos with the outer universe. He was supposed to be pouring his genius into the stymying calculations, however that could wait. Entrapta could not. He had wasted decades into the research; did a few more weeks or months or even years matter? She, on the contrary, filled this very instant: smiling, laughing, telling him that he was beautiful. He had to find a way to approach her. 

His most private chambers were situated behind a nearly unnoticeable hatch next to the machinery that helped him assemble his armor. He tapped the entrance code to a keypad concealed behind a panel, and slipped in. 

Hordak allowed nobody to enter, ever, save for Imp. Such a misdeed would count as much more than a mere flagrant breach of conduct. Here he was at his most vulnerable, especially during the nights when he lay armorless in his bed, plugged into a series of life-supporting tubes. The rooms branching out from a central hallway followed the style of his Sanctum: dark greens and grays were accentuated here and there by neon green light sources or the glow of open monitors. 

The first thing that greeted him upon entry was the altar built to the very end of the corridor. It served as the only deviation to the decor: a carious yellow shaft of light--similar to the one above his throne, but in miniature--illuminated a hand-drawn, full-body portrait of Lord Prime surrounded by such odds and ends that Hordak had thought might please his God. All these decades he had bowed at the sketch when ingressing or exiting, or offered it a prayer or some other token, hoping against hope that his pleas would be heard. Return to me, my Maker, let me be one with your Flock again, and let me serve Your glory by Your side. 

Today, however... Hordak remained unbent and only scowled at the likeness. He could not assess how well he had sketched the figure: God was staring at him from an elevated position, arms spread out wide as if accepting the incomer into His embrace. A halo outlined His silver hair, and His robes shone white as the mountain peaks in the Kingdom of Snows. Hordak’s gaze was transfixed to Lord Prime’s four eyes: the all-seeing, all-perceiving regard that observed all the dimensions of space and time. He believed this was the most realistic aspect of the icon: fulgent green eyes like fangs, ready to pierce one’s soul and reveal all the perverted desires concealed within.

_ Were those the eyes of a benevolent God? _

That single notion mingled with his reflections about Entrapta. Her gaze was so different: soft, tender, accepting… Should not any Lightbringer bear more of...well... _ her  _ qualities? 

_ Did he truly want to open that portal? _

Hordak had built an empire from the charred ruins of a spaceship. He had devoted the entirety of his existence to conquest and crusade in the name of Prime, destroying lesser beings in order to purify the galaxies, to render everything as sacred as Prime’s holy light, and yet…

He had fallen in love with an Etherian princess. An  _ Etherian _ . Oh, he wanted her, he lusted for her, but not merely the softness of her body. No, he relished her presence and intellect, her affection, and most importantly,  _ he did not wish for that to end _ . 

His God...did he truly want to face that glare which suddenly felt so... _ foul _ , as if fraught with despite? When Prime had discovered Hordak’s degenerative condition--or perhaps that he had dared entertain thoughts deviating from the dogma--he had been banished. When the engineer princess had unwittingly stumbled upon his moment of weakness, she had attempted to console him and...well... 

A pink heat returned to his cheeks. 

_ Whoever else would wrap a blanket around him? _ Nobody. Ever. He could never envision Lord Prime acting so, not to mention any of his Force Captains, ought they to witness one of his collapsing fits. It had been days, yet he would likely never forget about that episode. 

_ Indeed, did he truly want to open that portal?  _ Prime would never allow him to devote his time to another being; He was a jealous God that demanded single-minded servitude. To Him, Entrapta would be but a morsel of filth to be trodden on, and might even order Hordak to dispose of her immediately.

At the sheer idea, Hordak felt a well of unfathomable rage beginning to bubble in some primal part of his mind. If anyone attempted to pull one strand of that beautiful hair from her head, he would...he would… 

However, instead of clawing at a nearby, innocent object again, he grasped the horrible idea by the throat and pushed it down into the same abyss of subconsciousness whence it had arisen. If he had deemed himself incapable of sending her away, he would ascertain that nothing,  _ nothing _ ever succeeded in hurting her.

The warlord passed the altar without offering his God a prayer or a bow. Blasphemy or not, he could not humble himself beneath that fanged glare tonight. He would need to ruminate on the consequences of opening the portal for a while more, and now concentrate on Entrapta. 

One of the more spacious chambers of his private quarters had been furnished into a study. High, metallic shelves lined the walls and crossed the floor. Hardcopies and discs were either arranged into orderly, dustless rows, or stacked upon one another, carefully labeled and catalogued. He had stashed King Scorpio’s collection about Etherian anthropology and ethnology somewhere...there. A sizable portion of his hardcopies had either been digitized or elsewise converted into a modern format to sit in the shared network storage. These, however…

The tome he was essaying to find stood in the farthest corner of the room. He had relocated the entire topical section after his cloning and DNA splicing experiments had resulted in Imp: a living failure to join Etherian genetic material with his own. The thick, hefty folio was ancient and frail, and if ever, Hordak became conscious of the devastating strength of his hands and claws. 

He set  _ Ye Mating Habbits ande Courtshippe of Ethyrian Creatyrs _ carefully upon his desk and sat down. It contained extensive studies of tens of different sapient species, complete with pockets for additional discs including recorded material. The Etherian cultures sustained surprisingly diverse beings in different shapes and colors from sentient, humanoid fungi to feline types. Then again, many aliens chose to destroy any competitors, once they gained a more advanced level of technology. The Etherians had warred against one another even before Hordak had tumbled into Despondos, but apparently had not wiped out any rival nations, as such. 

At any rate, this might be his best source of information regarding his dilemma of how to proceed with Entapta. She belonged to the humanoid category, yet her hair rendered her unique among the Horde. Were its functions attributable to the magic of this realm, or did she represent some separate species of her own? He should be able to-

Hordak had opened the folio approximately in the middle, and both to his dismay and fervor, had hit a lurid spread illustrating humanoid creatures in the act of copulating. He had beheld it before, and likely some of his fantasies of Entrapta could trace their origins to these images. This time, however, the graphic details spilled fuel directly to the bonfire of his passion. With care, he turned a few pages, staring with wide eyes at the variety of couples of all shapes and sizes--and sometimes more than two--pleasuring one another.

It scarcely helped that his quick wit and vivid imagination began replacing the characters with himself and the princess. Licking at his fangs, Hordak rotated the folio first to one side and then upside down, attempting to determine the angles and physics of all those contortions and intertwined limbs. 

Could he perform something like... _ this _ to Entrapta? He had never even realized he might explore her with his tongue in such ways. Or that he might suckle her breast  _ while _ filling her and still fondle the pleasure point between her lower lips with one finger, all concurrently. Or... _ that _ ?

But...no. His spirits deflated, as the drawback of their striking size difference dawned on him. The top of Entrapta’s head just about reached his upper abdomen, and he was over twice as wide. Some of these entrancing positions functioned merely for couples of about equal height. Not to mention his sheer weight compared to her… 

Besides, as spellbinding as the idea of for instance plunging his tongue deep into her core was, he could not proceed to something so...audacious for a long time, perhaps never. He would need to exercise additional care, if the universe ever granted him the bliss of fondling and pleasing her. He had his beastly features, and without the life-supporting exoskeleton, he lacked full coordination in some of his fingers. Now that he considered it, he might not even be able to enjoy an intercourse without wearing most of it. His shaft had no issues whatsoever, but his heart...

Hissing at his defects, he turned to the index of the tome instead. There had to be something about, well...the entire  _ courting _ aspect. That element ought to occur before the mating, was that not so? For him, the topic was mostly enshrouded in fog, him having but a vague notion that it varied within each culture.

After a moment of tracing the various titles with one finger, his claw remained to hover over a topic related to the species the DNA of which he had once utilized. Curious, he worked his way to the correct pages, and started deciphering the text. The folio was composed in a vanished dialect, and peppered with cumbersome expressions the meaning of which he had to infer from the context. The lavish illustrations, however, aided in the matter. 

Imp’s species mix intrigued him, as the genetic material was compatible with his own to an extent. Could they perhaps...share some other aspects? The species itself was batlike, endowed with leathery wings, a tail, and long, pointed ears. Elsewise they displayed bipedal traits, and possessed hands with opposable thumbs. The text was talking about…what… 

What?  _ A courting dance _ ? 

Hordak blinked. That could not be correct, could it? He-

The warlord scowled at the accompanying pictures. A bat-couple was facing one another, flapping their wings and performing some kind of intricate set of steps. An image further down the page documented a portion of the order, numbering footprints from one to ninety. 

He- he could not…  _ He did not...exercise unbecoming gyrations of the body!  _ Mayhap the genetic makeup resembled that of his species, but… He had no wings, by the sacred throne of Lord Prime! This could not- 

Hesitantly, he stood up, and attempted to mimic some of the movements by grasping both corners of his voluminous cloak. After a few twirls and fluttering motions, Hordak gave up and flopped back down upon the chair. This was...bloody preposterous. He could not court Entrapta like this! She would keel over with laughter and cackle till she choked to her own glee. He had to begin anew.

Hours passed, as he turned over brittle pages and mulled over some of the more cryptic phrases. There was a long section about the erogenous areas of the female body, and it did confirm some of his suspicions, although for the most part it caused a wild tornado of question marks to spin around his head. Apparently some of the locations pertained to certain species only, not to mention the secretion of pheromones, the importance of ovulation cycles, and…and… Granted, he recognized some of these by definition, and for instance Shadow Weaver had requested leave for some of the female Horde members to rest for a day or two due to harsh aches at certain times of the month, yet… How had  _ all this  _ eluded his knowledge? He could grasp some of it during a single night, but scarcely  _ everything _ . Besides, had he not only commenced-

The warlord massaged his temples, and grimaced. His eyes were growing a mite weary, and hunger grumbled in the pit of his stomach. Whilst lurking in the hallway and concentrating on the topic at hand, he had missed two of his regular sustenance times. And still he had uncovered  _ nothing _ about the accursed courting aspect! 

He returned to the anthropology section with a vial of amniotic fluid in one hand. That would terminate the worst effects of prolonged hunger. However, he needed to consume a double portion of protein the following day. 

Could he find something else to lean on? Hordak had piled a small stack of flimsy hardcopies to the very end of one lower shelf. He had never fathomed the function of these pieces of fictional fluff, yet a certain audience absolutely adored them. Some of the volumes had circulated among the Horde soldiers. Three of the lot he had recovered from Shadow Weaver’s belongings, while endeavoring to pass judgement on her escape plans. 

The ludicrous booklets always narrated the same tale: A vapid, swooning character was rescued from some atrocious danger by a handsome, muscled creature riding either a horse or some flashy motorized vehicle. They would kiss and copulate in the end, albeit that the depictions were rather timid compared to  _ Ye Mating Habbits ande Courtshippe of Ethyrian Creatyrs _ . The front cover habitually portrayed the dominant party deprived of most of their upper garments and the submissive counterpart orgasticly leaning against them, clad in a nameless see-through vesture. 

Did one court another person thus? That could not be correct! Taking a swig from the vial, he opened the booklet from a random page. The more paragraphs he glanced over, the sourer grew his visage. What utter codswallop it was, indeed! The writing desecrated all the finesses of the Etherian common tongue, and the characters had less dimensions than a straight vector. This atrocity depicted a bland female character in the subservient role, fawning over a blonde hunk that had slayed a vampiric demon sporting glowing, red eyes and a high-collared cloak. 

As if the engineer princess, independent and capable, required rescuing from anything! Well...the portal explosion  _ did _ count as one, but he regarded it as an exception seldom met. Although, some fool’s fortune must have affected her, as it was a sheer wonder she had survived such an abundance of volatile experiments.

This rigmarole, however…was he supposed to slay  _ himself _ ? That ridiculous monster in the story bore a striking similitude to  _ him _ , and he suspected the author had done it on purpose. As for the steed, Entrapta would reprogram some bot or an archaic First Ones’ vehicle on the spot, grant it an advanced artificial intelligence, and ride away herself, lavender pigtails billowing behind her. 

By the salvation of Lord Pri- Well, perchance he ought not to swear by that name until he had solved his crisis of conscience… Whatever higher force commanded this multiverse, this was leading him nowhere! Hordak abandoned the tripe, and returned to the folio. At least the long-deceased composers had based it on real evidence. 

Perchance he could unearth a fact or two about Entrapta’s family origins. She had shared some details about her childhood with him, such as having been raised by robotic parental surrogates. Dryl, however, had stood as an independent kingdom on the Etherian maps for centuries. 

Eventually, Hordak located something. The author had spelled the location as  _ Drille _ , and hence the chapter had eluded his scrutiny. To his disappointment, the section entailed but a few pages, mostly concentrating on a fragmented lineage. One illustration portrayed an elderly, pink-haired woman wearing spectacles and standing in the shadow of a massive cogwheel. The tome could be sprawling and illogical in its narrative: How did the names of a smattering of ancestors aid a desperate seeker of knowledge, when the title promised something else? Unless he was to perform further research on her exact species by laying a foundation upon those obscure names, and  _ then _ introduce himself to the relevant rules of courtship... 

The warlord sighed, closing his eyes that now felt exhausted and sensitive to light. He had read for hours, and learned...too much and too little. 

_ What was he to do?  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, if you enjoyed the writing. I love all of your wonderful feedback, and it spurs on my inspiration!


	3. Chapter 3

Hordak blinked. His eyes felt weary, and the slight uncommonness of the surroundings prodded at his groggy mind. It required him a moment to adjust to his state: The forearm laying a few centimeters away was still encased within a vambrace. His pillow-

The plump, naked backside of a humanoid female filled his vision. Cursing, he finally comprehended that he had slumped on top of his desk, and slept in his study. Instead of a proper cushion, he had been resting his face against one of the raunchier spreads of  _ Ye Mating Habbits ande Courtshippe of Ethyrian Creatyrs.  _

Cheek by jowl, so to say… 

Ugh. His dreams had been a roiling perturbation of a haughty Lord Prime emerging from a portal, fanglike eyes fixed on him in venomous contempt, mingling with erotic scenes featuring Entrapta in various poses and states of undress in his Sanctum. A headache thumped behind one ear, most likely induced by the uncomfortable sleeping position. 

At least his life functions and blood levels did not appear to suffer from significant deviations. He marveled at the armor that sweet princess had constructed with her loving hands; his aches had subsided markedly during the past few days, and not once had he fallen prey to a spell of dizziness. He was, however, appalled to notice how much he had overslept. A military regime demanded austere discipline; it was unbecoming for the General himself to lax in his punctual rhythm. 

Entrapta,  _ Entrapta… _ How was that singular creature affecting his faculties... 

After a late nourishment and some necessary ablutions, Hordak’s headache seemed to attenuate. An assistive device close to his bed--simpler than the one partially specialized in medical aid in the Sanctum--helped him reassemble his clothing, cybernetic muscle augmentations, and the exoskeleton that latched on top of everything. Thereafter, he ascertained that he indeed did not exhibit that quarter of a millimeter of white root growth. Fiddling with the brush he used to apply his copious black eyeshadow every morning, he wondered whether he ought to attempt something a tad more...salient today. 

The princess found his intimidation makeup... _ attractive _ . He could scarcely fathom it, but that much he had derived from the expression that had illumed her visage after once explaining that this look did not match the natural aspect of his species. By the holy light of- 

He shook his head by the mirror. How much effort he had heaped upon exertion to divert his underlings from discovering what a frail, deteriorating wreck actually led the war against the Rebellion... False rumors about him stealing Etherian babies and guzzling their blood, how the cellars of his headquarters consisted of miles and miles of sinister dungeons, concealing the rotting skeletons of all his prisoners of war… Even though the cybernetic muscles restored the once impressive breadth of his shoulders, the heavy cloak extended it a little further; the corpsepaint style he had carefully developed transformed his visage into the semblance of a skull, and so forth. All of it disintegrated before her. Then again, she was the first person ever to accept him as…as he actually  _ were _ . 

His heart seemed to jitter at the sheer thought, and he desired to close her tiny form into his overwhelming embrace even more. Nonetheless… He did feel a slight trepidation about encountering her in the Sanctum today, yet what alternative did he possess but to stand erect behind his decision of not to shrink away? 

Well...it was to hope that he would not be standing too erect in a  _ literal sense _ , but… 

Hordak outlined the stylized bat wings around his eyes a mite sharper, and applied more black lipstick than during regular days. Frowning at his hair, he refrained from combing it back into the stiff clone soldier backslick. She...she granted him that... _ look _ , when he had absently tousled it to one side. He was supposed to radiate an aura of authority at all times, but perhaps could allow himself this one aberration. Oh, he desired to see that rather foolish grin adorning her beautiful face today...

His mind a maelstrom of fragmentary images and paragraphs from the previous night’s studies jumbled with love and barely contained lust, Hordak slid open the door to his Sanctum. 

Entrapta was sitting in her hair-chair by the desk where he had abandoned his time dilation calculations, one strand holding a tiny cup and another a datapad. While she did not glance up from the welter of mathematical dilemmas, a third strand waved at him.

“Hi, Hordak! You’re unusually late! Have you figured out how old you are yet?” Her voice bubbled with cheer, but her regard held the sharpness of concentration and the spark of intellect he adored so much. Precisely that laser-sharp genius had becharmed him from the day she had crept unbidden into his lab to steal tools. 

“Alas, not yet,” he rumbled. “I have had...more pressing matters to research.”

“Oh? What’s that? Uuuuu, can I help?” 

Hordak felt a slight heat crawling up his cheeks. He would, under no circumstances, divulge that his “pressing research” had included Entrapta’s erogenous areas and how to prolong her pleasure. 

“Ah...I shall remind you if I require aid in that,” he coughed. “It relates to...biology.” He had to divert the subject somehow, before this mastermind dug out every fragment of a detail with one of her ‘Now tell me everything!’ insistences. 

He reached the desk, and the equations up on the screens turned his unease into a scowl. The neon green text reminded him of the strange nocturnal reveries about Lord Prime and his vitriolic leer on the icon. This portal project...as much as Entrapta had poured her enthusiasm in it, might it truly pose a threat to her? He had bestowed no time upon the matter yet, however it did represent another necessity for a relatively swift decision. 

He had not humbled himself before the likeness of Prime at the start of this day either... 

“I have not managed to discover the correct coefficients for the time dilation variables. I have evaluated a range of options, however one can merely feed the energy initiation process one property at a time, which is encoded into the quantum signature of the dimension one wishes to access. It is feasible that the construction lacks other essential details...or some other variables suffer from erroneous values, which might explain why the wormhole slumps shortly after the first stage. Consider the one relating to dimensional expansion...” He pointed at one of the subroutines of an algorithm with a claw. A tiny portion of him was commencing to entertain hopes that most of their calculations were faulty. 

“Not all universes inflate--or remain in stasis, such as Despondos. Some deflate, and eventually collapse in on themselves, possibly initiating a new cycle in an oscillation of dying and emerging universes. At any rate, I have perused the fragmentary texts you discovered during one of the recent missions, and have unearthed nothing of significance in relation to how to align the timelines.” 

Entrapta was gazing at him keenly, her chin resting upon her laced fingers. Another part of Hordak neither engaged with physics nor blasphemy noticed with a slight pang that she was wearing the plum top today. 

“I am afraid I never became acquainted with the precise state of the universe beyond Despondos, before the sporadic portal hurled me here. It was not...relevant to my interests at that time; I only recognized from the Red Shift readings that it was expanding. As a military general with a fully functional portal technology at my disposal, I did not need to recall every particular. However, in the hour of my demise, I lost so many things I had theretofore taken for granted. The databanks of my ship blacked out, everything disconnected...” He sighed, moving his finger along the quantum signature encoding algorithm. 

“I did however remember some crucial details, such as the string vibration values of a couple of different dimensions. Elsewise the portal research would have been nothing but fumbling around blindly in the dark. Now…as an indirect response to your entrance remark… I have a hunch that time progresses fleeter in my universe of origin than here. The magic of Despondos mayhap exerts an additional... _ something _ into all the laws of physics, and scrambles them.”

“So, no birthday cakes for you just yet?”

He snorted, half-amused. “I still do not recognize the necessity for such... _ divergences _ to the standard pace of operations… As a clone, I was born into full adulthood, and behold nothing special about the day I stepped out of a vitrine.”

Entrapta’s brows contracted, if only for a moment. Was there... _ sadness _ in her gaze? Her mien however returned to the usual enthusiasm, perhaps at the thought of analyzing the effects of thaumaturgy on physics. 

“Ahh...well…” A frown wrinkled his own forehead, as he chose his words carefully. Granting compliments that did not seem ridiculously awkward--or elsewise softening his verbal expressions--would not emerge in a gracious manner for a long while still. However, he wanted to avoid another episode of ‘technologically sound’. Imp kept reminding him enough of it by repeating the bloody phrase several times a day. 

“I am not denying you the...frivolity of it, should you wish to celebrate your own time units.” He smiled. “I, however...have lost the track of such matters. Decades here, ages spent in other galaxies… Individuals of my species are inclined to immensely long life spans, outliving many other sapient creatures. Yet I am relatively young still. That is all I know.” 

“Don’t worry, we’ll find out!” she shouted, flinging both her arms above her head. “Now, I have some ideas about the key I thought the portal might need to function. It’s all relevant to the issue of tetrad alignments and the problematic coefficients. The First Ones clearly knew how to fit all the pieces together, and it might be yet another fragment of their technology that solves the matter...”

Hordak drew nearer the princess, as she turned towards the screens and the old hardcopies scattered on the desk. A slight malaise was trickling into his heart: He required time alone to weigh the disfavors and advantages of opening the portal, yet this sweet genius was sometimes a mite too expeditious. Then again, the blame for the entire endeavor lay upon his head. Had he not urged her to hasten her research? 

Back then, he had never realized he might fall in love with her, and that perhaps Etheria could mean something else than yet another writhing mass of heathen maggots to be purified in the light of Prime…

A myriad different distractions seemed to be tugging at his attention at the same time. He needed to focus on Entrapta first, and then deliberate on the future of the portal research. If he could not confess his feelings to her and confirm that she truly would respond to them, there was no point in deprecating the project, was there? Well...then again, perhaps they could employ the technology for something else, rather than sending a signal to Prime… 

Entrapta deposited a lengthy, winding analysis of various First Ones’ circuits before him. Perchance she had been canvassing exactly that on the moment she had dropped on top of him during the previous day. 

His position behind her shoulder and the angle it presented down to her was not the most appropriate to stimulate the scientific mind, however. While she tapped her datapad and visualized various scenarios to him about a specific key module added to the portal device, his eyes kept roaming from the curvilinear diagrams to other...curves. The white top rode rather low this afternoon for some reason, and exposed a lavish amount of soft, dulcet cleavage. 

The Sanctum bathed in gloom, and most of the light by the desk issued from the screens. The illumination delineated her with an almost unearthly glow. Shadows were drawn along the contours of her upper body, merely serving to emphasize her oh-so delicious beauty. She appeared as if emerging straight out of his fantasies. 

He was failing to follow the presentation. Something dark crimson and primal from the abyss of his sinful thirst was whispering to him instead, urging him to move even closer, and- 

Entrapta leaned back, and inclined her head towards him. Due to his proximity, she nearly brushed the fabric of his robe. His awareness snapping back to normality, Hordak flinched back a step.  _ What the bloody damnation was he doing?  _

“In addition...I repaired some of the insulator rods yesterday. When we get to soldering the damaged module back intact, they’re ready to go in.” She waved one hand to the general direction of a lidded container sitting on a workbench. As if some part of her had sensed his abrupt movement, she inquired, “Were you going to point out a misestimation somewhere, or…?” 

“Ahahah- I- I may have a contrary opinion on something. Nevertheless, I shall listen to your full arguments first. Proceed.”

“I’ll continue in a sec. Anyway, I thought I might experiment some more with that insulator material. That’s still what we used before, the softer rubbery type, but… I have this idea about a non-conductive mix of alloy and ceramic components. I don’t know if it’s possible, but-”

Hordak’s mouth drew into a tight line. “Hmm. I concur, however do utilize the proper compartment for such endeavors.”

Something kept nagging him about her enthusiasm for this particular brand of component research. He had caught her too many times with a potentially explosive reactant bubbling outside the safety plex, not to mention her rather foolish way of donning gloves with welding covers, but elsewise remaining clad in a flimsy little top the material of which provided no more shielding than her bare skin. What if something went amiss? 

“Right...” She flicked one strand of hair in an absent manner, dismissing his concerns. “Of course...” Before he could retort, the princess returned to the problem at hand. 

Perhaps half an hour ticked past, and Hordak was being consumed by the fires of his lust again. He had always prided himself on being a stellar listener with a magnificent concentration. Granted, he did grow impatient if subjected to idle blather or ‘touching base’, but Entrapta’s astute scientific discourse had never made him drift. Well...until comprehending how pleasant she was to behold.

He had reclaimed that step, and loomed mere centimeters away from one pigtail. Fascinated, his gaze roamed up the contours of her bosom and long neck, to the smooth curve of her cheek, and down again over the fabric of her top and to the opening cut into the shoulder. Such as Hordak’s high slits, that element served no practical purpose, but it revealed the beautiful lines of her shoulder and upper arm. Involuntarily, his hand moved to hover over the bare, olive skin. He felt his mouth growing wet, as he imagined how silky and warm the skin would feel beneath his fingers. No, beneath his  _ lips _ ... 

Everything his gaze had savored was rife with sensitive locations, at least according to the folio… If he kissed her just... _ there _ , would she emit a sweet little whimper? Or that spot just next to the hollow of her neck…? 

Without his armor, he lacked the ability to control some of his fingers properly due to the damage to his muscles. Now, however, his desire smothered the alarmed protests emanating from his rational mind, and he seemed incapable of controlling an entire hand…

\----

Entrapta blinked, words dying on her lips. 

Something had just... _ touched _ her. 

Something warm had brushed the skin of her shoulder, and repeated the same motion along her neck near the jawline. 

Had Hordak-

She turned around to gaze up at him with raised brows. He towered over her, much closer than usual. His huge hand was aloft, one finger pointing at something on a screen higher up. Yet, it did not seem near enough to have-

Had she imagined it? Certainly not, but... Well, it might have been just an errant strand of hair twitching about in a series of little movements. She was sitting on most of it, wasn’t she, so it must have warmed up quite a bit during all this time. But the touch had felt  _ different _ , more roughly textured, and- 

She could discern only hints of Hordak’s face up in the shadows. His glowing eyes and red fangs swam in the darkness of the ceiling and his high collar, his face outlined here and there by suggestions of pasty skin. It seemed that his gaze was aflame, somehow, stimulated by some emotion she could not figure out.

And he was... _ so close _ , close enough that she could feel the heat emanating from his body, not to mention the sound of his oddly heavy breathing. She could have almost leaned her torso against his abdomen--and rather wanted to, but he would probably just recoil twenty steps away in alarm and perhaps disgust. Hadn’t he been almost in a panic of some kind yesterday, when they had accidentally become entangled on the floor?

Then again, he  _ did _ allow her to touch him with her hair, but that hardly had the same effect as outright  _ snuggling against him _ . Hordak was all about cool military efficiency and scientific endeavor, not one to indulge in sappy romantic fantasies. 

In the light of yesterday’s embarrassing incident, though, why was he positively brooding over her like that? Although… There was something...there was a distinct,  _ darkly erotic _ flair about him today; on top of everything else, the metallic scent of his armor mingled with something musky, not to mention how he had sharpened the shadowy makeup around his eyes, or the way his huge, sharp fangs burned up in the darkness… 

She gave a little involuntary shiver. The warlord reminded her or some kind of powerful vampiric creature, ready to fondle her neck with those long, clawed fingers… Like the one in the silly booklet that had been circulating the Horde dormitories some time ago, but so much more vivid and...oozing virility. She had loathed the so-called hero for slaughtering the poor creature; if she had been the heroine, she’d run away with the handsome vampire monster instead. 

The princess turned back to the research, before her expression revealed too much of her state of mind.

_ Had he touched her, though? _ Hordak had been acting a little...weird during the recent times, especially after she had replaced his armor. Besides, the way he had stared at her when walking over to the desk today...had it been  _ hunger _ on his face? She might have lacked the ability to read all silent cues, but the new settings in the Fright Zone among so many other people had forced her to learn a few things. One could find guides to facial expressions in the network, and the princess possessed an excellent memory. Even so, she probably would never understand all the nuances of body language. 

Entrapta had to ask him to repeat a handful of his recent sentences, as she realized that the train of her thought had not only derailed but was fast sinking into the bog of giddy daydreams about him. Those had grown rather lewder and much more frequent during the past weeks, and on occasion she found it demanding to rivet on her research.

“This set of variables here.” He was analyzing a segment of a long differential equation. “I believe this ought to be revised. They produce a negative imaginary value, whereas-” 

“I...I’m-” She shook her head to clear her mind. “That...but they’re supposed to do that. It cancels out the positive value in this bit.” She used a stand of her hair to indicate a particular square root. “ _ Then _ if you consider how it affect the alignment of the different string vibrations-”

Hordak and Entrapta engaged in a lengthy debate about whether they should alter the coefficients or add a simple minus sign in front of a differential running for tens of pages. The whole episode about the odd sensations had nearly sunk into the bottomless chasm of her subconscious, when something else quite out-of-place occurred.

“This equation is fine! It’s the lack of the...key module that’s causing the collapse!” Entrapta huffed. 

“I fail to agree.” Hordak browsed through the pages on one screen, brow crumpled in concentration. “I am positive we are circumstantially nullifying this part… Furthermore, I believe we ought to rewrite the quantum signature to incorporate a different dimens-”

“No, no, I’m correct! I know it!” Both her pigtails lifted Entrapta up closer to the screen, and she jabbed her finger several times at the mathematical symbols rolling past. The surface of the screen dimpled a little beneath her onslaught. Why on Etheria was Hordak being so stubborn again? She had recalculated and verified the damned thing several times, and her logic was not miscarrying. 

Still scrolling through the incessant equation, the warlord was not regarding her in a direct manner. His free hand, however, closed over her stabbing one, swallowing about half of her forearm in the process. Gently but firmly, he pulled it off from the screen, while continuing to explain the probable fallacy. He did not let go of her immediately either, but took his time to lower her hand back to her side, as if absent-minded about it. Before he released the hold, one immense thumb slid over the fabric of her gloved palm, the touch much more solid than mere happenstance should allow.

Entrapta gaped at him and her hand in turn. What-

Hordak kept his regard fixed on the symbols onscreen, and maintained a calm tone of voice, even if his breathing seemed to grow heavier. His careful argument was turning into an unintelligible susurrus in her ears, however. She felt a little flutter deep in the pit of her stomach, and the sensation of his touch around her hand and forearm did not seem to dwindle. Not that ogling at his impressive, seven-foot-tall profile helped. The high slit of his robe exposed a generous amount of well-muscled thigh and some equally fine gluteus, and upward, the lean outline of his waist curved into a broad chest… The metal of his armor gleamed in the illumination of the screens, giving him an almost sleek, streamlined appearance. He had done something to his hair as well. Instead of the rigid backslick, it looked ruffled, a few thicker strands falling over his forehead and the rest sticking out to all directions. Like a cute bird’s nest. 

“Is something the matter, Entrapta? Have I proven myself correct to the point that you have no counterargument?” he inquired, the burning of his eyes so keen she thought they might drill holes through her. However, a small smile lifted the corners of his black-painted lips upwards. 

She heard, but could not ingest much of the meaning. Her breath hitched beneath that gaze that indeed seemed... _ hungry _ . Oh, and how he stressed the syllables of her name in such a distinct manner, that deep, gravely resonance of his voice so titillating...

The fluttering sensation only increased, and she was beginning to feel rather moist between her legs. Suddenly remembering that little, inexplicable touch on her shoulder and neck scarcely helped. Oh, oh, why had she not pulled off her gloves earlier? Some surfaces felt uncomfortable to her, so she often continued wearing them after the appropriate activity. Now, though? She could have just savored the touch of his warm skin on hers, and either confirmed or contradicted the nature of the earlier sensations.

At any rate… No matter how much Hordak despised his own attributes, in her eyes he was...gorgeous. And not only because of his striking, beastly beauty and cunning intelligence combined with a colossal knowledge, but the way he allowed her to be her authentic self in his presence. He neither wrinkled his nose at her ‘weirdness’ nor for instance made sharp remarks about her involuntary movements being irksome. She’d tried to suppress them in the Makers’ Guild meetings and other gatherings consisting of individuals other than her kitchen staff, but it seldom worked. It was related to her neurology somehow, and her inability to comprehend people perhaps stemmed from the same source. If only her peers would have used plain verbal statements to tell her what they wanted, instead of all these inclinations of the head and odd poses... 

Hordak, for the most part, spoke in a very straightforward manner. Besides, his reactions were so over-the-top tizzy, that he was much easier to decrypt. Except for those peculiar looks as of late...

Now, though… She wanted to kiss him. Or have him pull her atop the desk, strip her naked, and pound her on top of the hardcopies till she was languid from multiple orgasms. Whichever came first. Oh, she had thirsted for him  _ so much _ lately. This breathtaking warlord, with all his beautiful imperfections… 

_ Oh, Hordak... _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, if you enjoyed the story.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally the second half of chapter three, but I had to cut it in two due to the length.

Entrapta’s giddy daydreaming was cut short as the Sanctum’s main entrance hissed open. Hordak spun about to witness Force Captain Grizzlor stomping in. The hirsute official saluted and coughed into his hand. For some reason, his demeanor changed from confidence to...embarrassment? Odd...Entrapta could not pin any other meaning to the expression. 

“Excuse me, Lord Hordak, for interrupting you and Lady H- Uhhh- Entrapta. There’s trouble on the eastern border, and we need your tactical knowledge.”

Hordak’s previously smiling lips retracted into a thin, tight line. Did this relate to yesterday’s meeting with the Force Captains? He had been so busy to stalk off after the collision that she had missed the opportunity to run a quick debugging analysis on his armor for faults… Although, she had not been in the best state of mind for purely scientific data analysis then either. 

Entrapta hid a flush behind a larger strand of hair. She was beginning to ache down between her legs, the sweet heat and wetness yearning for caresses. The recollection of yesterday’s sensations piled on top of everything else were only adding momentum to her arousal. His hot breath against her face, the feel of his chest rising and falling beneath her, his huge hands around her waist, lifting her up... 

A few meters away, Grizzlor and Hordak were arguing about something. The clamor finally made her bubble of giddy fluster burst, and she caught his reluctant agreement to join the meeting. He turned at her, indicating the entrance with one hand. His usual stern air of command had replaced the smile she had briefly enjoyed. 

“I regret that I must take leave. Perhaps you will have a solution to the conundrum ready upon my reappearance.”

With a swish of his cloak, the warlord exited the Sanctum, Grizzlor at his heel. The Force Captain glanced a few times back at her, and saluted, before the door closed after him.

Entrapta frowned. Why had Grizzlor aimed such a gesture at  _ her _ ?  _ Lady...what? _ She was here helping the lord of the realm with a portal project and arms development, not barking orders. 

No matter. She was burning with too much desire to care, and craved for further stimulation. She could spin one of her ‘Sanctum fantasies’ with her vivid imagination, and return to the equations after her lust had abated. Entrapta giggled at her own, naughty concoctions. Of course, Hordak would be mortified if he discovered the nature of her raunchy daydreams about him, especially the ones involving bindings and him testing new,  _ intriguing _ robotics designs on her. 

She had heard enough Horde trooper talk about romantic flights of fancy whilst lurking in the ventilation channels. Many involved sharing ration bars in the soft light of a single lamp, or strolling hand in hand beneath full moons upon the rooftops of the sprawling constructions that served as dwellings and factories. There was absolutely nothing wrong about such notions, but she preferred things a little more on the...rough side. Then again, she probably  _ would _ enjoy a nocturnal stroll through the Fright Zone with Hordak, blabbing on about the nature of quasars and how cosmic strings were formed, him offering counterarguments while moonbeams glinted off the plates of his armor and his cloak rippled in the wind behind his towering frame. 

Why  _ had  _ she felt so particularly light-headed in his presence today, though? Was it the uncommon closeness, or...his scent, which she usually did not observe? Or the way his husky baritone voice caressed her ears both with its timbre and the old-fashioned, elegant vocabulary? Uhhh...the more obsolete the words, the better. 

Now, however, Entrapta thirsted for some private time. She flung herself up into the nearest vent hole with one pigtail, and set off. Which way was her room...ah, to the left. She had scratched little markings onto the walls wherever the channels branched out to various directions. Then down the middle shaft and a slip through the third opening on the right…

Her hair lowered her a little brusquely on the floor, and she stumbled in the darkness of her quarters. Hordak was something of an opposite with order: everything stood in neat stacks and his surfaces always sparkled with cleanness. The princess, however…nothing was filthy, but the near infinite amount of projects she had started created clutter. Even her bedroom resembled the offspring of a library that had mated with a hadron collider. 

Dim, voice-activated lights flicked on, and she tottered to the chamber in question. She stripped off her clothing and tossed herself upon the bed. A foolish smile enlivening her face, she stared at the arm he had held in his hand, and slid her own down along the curves or her body and between her legs. Her fingers touched soft, velvety flesh soaked with her desire.

She inhaled deep, her fingers sinking into the warm wetness between her lower lips.  _ How had she gotten so thoroughly soaked?  _ Either she was falling deeper and deeper in love with him, or there truly had been something intoxicating about his presence today. 

Oh yes, Hordak… The princess started weaving a storyline of her own from the moment he had removed her hand from the screen. 

_ Instead of releasing it, though, he would pull her by the same arm on a nearby workbench, and brush aside any unnecessary objects with a single, powerful sweep. His calculations had been correct, and perhaps she would cease arguing over them after a little ‘lesson’… He would set her on her hands and knees on the bench, pull her coveralls down to her knees with one yank, and shove the middle strap of her underpants to one side. He hungered to make her dripping wet for him quickly, so that he could push his swelling manhood up to the last centimeter into her. There was no time to start removing random pieces of clothing entirely.  _

The sheer idea made her breath hitch. Kneading one large breast with her left hand and pulling on the nipple, she rubbed at her clit with her fingers, her little whimpers of pleasure soon turning into moans. 

Even in reality, Hordak possessed an exceptionally long tongue. She had caught glimpses of it on a few occasions when he had enjoyed a quick snack in the laboratory, and had had to stop herself from gawking. 

That tongue would go  _ everywhere _ and perform tricks she could never replicate with her toys or fingers... 

Ohh, yes…  _ One thick, armored arm would keep her pinned to the workbench, and he would lick long strokes from her pleasure point up to her opening, and then enter her with that marvel. Oh, yes, yes… He’d curl it and prod with it inside her, and find the sweet spot to rub. She’d moan and tremble beneath his arm, but he would maintain a firm hold on her, so that she would not trash about during her orgasm or otherwise interfere with his ministrations. He’d alternate by filling her with his fingers instead, sliding them in and out in rapid succession, while suckling and licking her clit, making her climax again and again… Quickly, quickly, so that he could lay claim to her... _

_ His princess had to be well prepared for his size. As a surprise, he would place those fingers into her mouth, chuckling richly when she tasted her own pleasure.  _

Of course…in reality, Entrapta was not certain whether he might be able to use his clawed fingers on her as such. She could, however, entertain giddy dreams that he might file one or blunt just  _ for her _ , and continue doing so. Uh...definitely  _ two _ , thick and long and strong as they were… 

_ Then he would push aside his robes and pull out his huge, hard manhood for her to admire...  _

Again, she had not been able to determine  _ what _ actually hid beneath the fabric. After all, was he not a cybernetically augmented, vampiric alien of some ilk from a completely different universe, already sporting biology irrelevant to the Etherian genetics? For all she knew, he might not even represent a gender recognized on this planet, in spite of how he addressed himself. 

But when he sat down, the crotch of his robe rumpled in a distinct manner. The way the fabric behaved suggested something ample, and at least for the most part shaped like the common male organ of reproduction. To her slight dismay, she had never reached close enough with measuring tape to acquire thorough data, but… With a featherbrained giggle, she wondered if she could insist him to lift up the robe and let her  _ investigate _ in the name of science. It would be crucial for the continuous improvement of the new armor, of course... 

Entrapta was entitled to the fickles of her imagination, as long as he never smashed the mental box of her lewd secrets open. To continue stimulating herself, she pulled out one of her robotic pleasuring devices from a closet, and latched it to a slot on the headboard. She had changed the artificial shaft imitating the male sexual organ into a blue version, longer and thicker than the previous, and added a few exciting characteristics to the texture of the surface material. It had an inner feature that warmed it up a degree or two above the regular humanoid body temperature, and depending on her craving, it incorporated a number of levels for vibration and thrusting speed. 

.

Finding the device a poor replacement for the person she adored and longed, she nonetheless pushed the shaft into her wet core. Setting it to slide in and out, she slowly increased the speed of thrusts as she was impelled closer to another climax. The princess moaned, biting her knuckles to stifle the loudest noises of pleasure, as she imagined  _ Lord _ Hordak pounding her on the workbench so that it shook and rattled. 

_ His huge upper body would be hunched over her as she shivered beneath him on her hands and knees, trapped against the cold, hard surface, while his hot, hard shaft conquered her utterly and one of his fingers kept rubbing at her needy clit. And she loved every moment of it, yearning, begging for more… When he would hunger to feel more of her, he would slip his claws beneath her top and tear it in two as if it were woven of cobwebs. He would grasp both of her breasts with his massive hands, caressing them while he licked her neck and kept pounding, pounding hard…  _

_ Oh, and he would tease her with his breathy baritone between his own grunts and groans of lust, deep and raspy as the rumble of subterranean rocks. Oh, that voice of his, she could drown in it...  _

With a screaming moan, Entrapta orgasmed hard. After she had switched off the pleasuring device with one flick of a languid finger, she continued trembling and whimpering for a while, the contractions of her inner walls slowly abating. 

The haze of climax eventually dissolved. The princess awakened to the dark green umbrage of the chamber, to the barrenness of the metallic walls and the chill permeating the air. A slight sheen of sweat glistened on her skin, but it did not require long for the coldness to sink its fangs into her. 

The heating system appeared to be malfunctioning yet again. Condensed moisture was lazily dripping somewhere. 

She rolled over to her back, and pulled a blanket over her body, while staring into the shadows of the ceiling. She had experienced multiple, satisfying orgasms, but… Why was she beginning to feel a little...wistful and disappointed? 

Well... _ he _ had initiated none of her climaxes. Only a figment in her mind, and the trickery of an artificial surrogate… 

Hordak was not here to cradle her in his arms. Nor could she rest her head upon the chest of a daydream. No reverie or device could replace  _ him _ in his very essence; the warmth of his body and the gentle hold of his hands, the way his rich, deep intonations caressed her ears… Yesterday...a fluke, an accident, but that closeness had felt so pleasant and... _ safe _ , somehow. 

So she hugged a pillow instead, and listened to the silence. Emily was sharing her own adventures somewhere in the bowels of the headquarters with Imp; she did not want the innocent battle droid to interfere with her fantasy hours. Omitting the drip-drip-drip of water somewhere, nothing broke the quiet: the faint static of generators and other appliances always filled the background, but no footsteps were approaching her chambers. 

Especially not the clank of sabatons.

The hour had not grown terribly late yet, but Entrapta could not muster the effort to get up and return to the lab. She probably should have, considering how the discourse had been cut short, but... She might just discover emptiness. Hordak’s meetings sometimes stretched well past midnight, and even if she were an errant sleeper, he required his recovery time. 

. 

For some reason, she felt a little teary. Why did she have to be so...inept in attempting to convey her feelings to others? She had been scared of failing yet another friendship, but... _ should _ she actually have confessed to Hordak  _ in words _ what she had engraved upon the power crystal of his new armor? Intelligent and observant as he was, should he not figure it out soon enough? 

Would he lay here now beside her, if she had gathered up her courage? Or-

Well. Perhaps he had comprehended the message, but was keeping quiet about it, so as not to hurt her feelings. 

Although... _ why _ had he touched her hand like that? And had... _ had _ he actually...caressed her neck just a little? 

Probably not. She was ogling him through the rose-tinted mist of her own rapture. She  _ had _ been violating that screen, and obstructing his sight while he had studied the equation. Most likely he had wanted to hinder her from breaking his concentration, and therefore had not instantly let go. All cool and utilitarian…barring a few oddities, which she probably read wrong anyway. Oh, he had smiled at her, but friends did that to friends, didn’t they? After all, that was how  _ she _ had addressed him days ago, fearing that anything more might shock him and cause irreparable harm. 

She had never...loved anyone romantically before. Before him, that is. And never...experienced much anything, really. A few one-sided crushes, yes… Then there had been a couple of so-called dates with some acquaintance from the Makers’ Guild, which had led to nothing. She suspected that for instance her blathering for hours about the training of neural networks had caused them to flop. Or that her way of attempting to impress a crush with an overenthusiastic presentation of a new artificial intelligence module, instead of indulging in something incomprehensible called  _ flirting, _ had merely driven them away. Those peculiar frowns and the way they had retreated a couple of steps…

She never did fit in, did she? 

Her eyes prickled. She attempted to squeeze them shut, but her chest gave an involuntary heave, and tears began to spill out. Thirty-five years of loneliness and failure in human contact suddenly crashed upon her, burying all the budding hopes and dreams beneath its crushing weight, seemingly grinding everything to dust.

Why- Why  _ was _ she so awkward? Why did she have to be such a complete mess in matters that appeared the simplest thing for other people? Others among the Horde formed bonds all the time, giggling and sharing kisses in dark corners and the shadows of factory pipes… And here she was, believing that someone might finally be returning her affection  _ by stopping her hand from abusing their property _ ?

How pathetic  _ was _ she? Could that word even describe her stupidity? Adhering to silly little details, hoping against hope, that-

Granted, Hordak had vehemently insisted that anyone deeming her a failure would be an utter fool. But she  _ was _ an utter fool, so...all a closed circle. 

Her sobs were turning uncontrollable, her chest shuddering beneath the onslaught of misery. Attempting to wipe her face on the blanket did not provide help: The tears she managed to dry were soon replaced by others, even more bitter. 

It was...hopeless. 

But...but...she  _ was _ still entitled to- Well, even if others branded her as weird and aloof, that did not invalidate her need for love and physical touch, did it? She yearned for caresses and embraces just like any other... _ regular _ person. 

When it came to Hordak, though… During the past months, she had finally thought she might have found her niche with him, and now she could not afford to lose this precious friendship. She would have to gulp down the urge for brash confessions. And yet, how much she longed for him, how much she yearned that he would be here now, holding her tight and perhaps kissing away her tears...

But...it was not meant to be. Most likely her love would never cease to be unrequited. 

Entrapta hid her face into the pillow, and cried hard. Only the silent gloom heard her sobs. 

  
  


* * *

The following morning, a slightly yawning Hordak arranged the life support tubes extending to his bed back to their slots. The previous night had proved exhausting: The counseling with the Force Captains had trudged on for hours. Some rebel manoeuvre had rammed its way through a fortified wall, destroying a number of barracks in the ensuing chaos and hijacked a delivery of important goods. Force Captain Mantenna had defended the border with success, but the damage was massive. Resources had to be allocated for rebuilding, not to mention arranging for reinforcements atop the remaining fortifications, lest the attack might recur. 

And… Notwithstanding his weariness, Hordak had restarted his perusals of Etherian anthropology after returning to his quarters. Somehow his tiredness had evaporated, as he had consumed texts and graphical representations of...well...for instance how he might cajole Entrapta to climax with some intriguing tongue-tricks. At least he had dragged himself back to his proper bed in the end, instead of having another nocturnal affair with the bloody folio. 

Albeit the hardships of governance and his irrepressible motions, perchance yesterday had not represented a case of irredeemably sordid failure... Granted, he had wanted to slap himself multiple times at one point for his audacity with the princess. Nevertheless…

Entrapta. 

She had shrunk away neither from his involuntary or...the deliberate touch. Nor had he utterly attainted himself with a stupendous erection poking at the small of her back, when his hand had begun to roam. Well…his shaft had misbehaved, indeed, but the bloody undergarments  _ did _ provide aid. A more compact gibbousness was easier to overlay with a smaller fold of his cloak. Granted, he could not erase the embarrassing shimmer from his visage, however it was a...commencement. 

Although...he was horrified to recall the flash of animalism that had coursed through his veins upon his return to the Sanctum. His hand had seemed to tingle where he had stroked Entrapta’s skin hours ago, the warm velvet of that tender little area by the jawline… The recollection of her flushed, radiant smile beneath her hooded eyes, and her faint scent--oddly flavoursome and musky--lingering by the desk had ignited that primal, dark crimson heat in him. He had wanted to stomp off into her quarters, claw the door off its hinges, and, and-

It had represented but a moment’s urge, however it made him ponder upon the nature of his species. He possessed only a smidgen of knowledge about its origins--trickled down from the obscure reaches of the Hive Mind. It did however incline towards greedy creatures of the night that utilized the steel-penetrating claws of their hands and feet to climb along the walls of dwellings and other structures, ready to overwhelm their prey and sink their fangs into a jugular to suck out blood... Considering how his carnal whispers had already thrust him to touch her, he would need to exercise further care with his beastly aspects... 

He glanced at the fingers of his left hand, feeling the ghost of that tingle again, making his breath hitch a little. Touching, though… Little gentle gestures, those he  _ would  _ go for anew, and...perhaps not in such a clandestine manner or veiled behind the shroud of absent-mindedness. She did tolerate them, perhaps even...enjoyed such attention a whit? However, he would need to proceed in small increments, as if tackling a tricky algorithm. Dissect it into tinier sub-problems, and construct it upwards thence…

He needed to...hmh...perhaps weave his feelings into a coherent verbal expression? Did that count as  _ courting _ ? 

Now, however…he was ready to plunge back into the realm of multidimensional mathematics.

In the hallway on his way to the Sanctum, the warlord frowned up at the likeness of his God. Entrapta’s effulgent grin fresh in his memory, he indeed beheld no trace of such affection in that fourfold leer. What kind of Deity  _ was _ He, exactly? A God, indeed, his Maker, but… How exactly did one channel light into the universe by extinguishing portions of it? 

Of course suffocating other stars and civilizations aggrandized His radiance evermore, yet what if those myriads of cultures they had devastated had included the likes of Entrapta? Had he...unwittingly destroyed something like her multiple times, only to bring glory to his God?

Was he  _ the _ God, or merely the shadow of some...greater divinity?

Or something stygian and eldritch  _ pretending _ to be a God? 

Hordak shuddered at the sheer temerity of such blasphemies issuing from his conflicted conscience. However...perchance a seed of truth had sprouted a cotyledon. What God  _ was _ such a non-Entrapta?

As Hordak egressed the hallway into the Sanctum, unhumbled, the venomous glare of Horde Prime seemed to pursue him. The piercing eyes seethed with disdainful contempt in the ill shade of the yellow shaft of light, as if contriving to destroy the dreams of this one disobedient and insolent clone...

\---

Hordak had to bite back the question about the mathematical dilemma he had been balancing on the tip of his tongue. As his regard hit the desk littered with the previous day’s travails, he discovered it empty. Entrapta’s minuscule cup sat forlornly atop a chart besmirched with brown mug rings, and one of the screens exhibited the same segment of differential he had been examining hours and hours ago. Nobody had sat at the desk since.

A line creased the warlord’s forehead, as he glanced about. Where was Entrapta? Commonly fraught with such enthusiasm to-

Had she fallen ill?

Granting one last glance at a vent hole that gaped with emptiness, instead of hiding even a hint of lavender hair within, Hordak stomped out and wended his way towards the simulation annex. Not all devotion to scientific endeavors could fit into his Sanctum, especially considering how much space the cloning vats demanded. Hence the entire floor had been slowly transformed into a sprawling laboratory.

Nothing within there, either. The screens hung as blank squares along the walls, and no telltale cups were left behind. In that sense, her presence was easy to detect outside the vents: Pursue the trail of disregarded tableware, usually tiny ones. 

The warlord frowned. There was something she had remarked upon the previous day...damned haze of arousal, how it muddled his concentration! What had that been- Ah, indeed...insulator research. Well, her exuberance embraced an array of interests; mayhap the mathematical dilemma had been solved early, and she had rushed to develop yet another integration. 

The notion about the speedy portal repairs made the corners of his mouth twitch further downward. Oh, he was so looking forward to her refulgent joy and the keen spark in her eyes, as she explained her resolution, yet...that problematic signal to Prime. He had almost suggested yesterday that they should overwrite the quantum signature with the characteristics of some other dimension instead of his universe of origin, yet she had managed to interrupt him on that crucial instant. 

That he would address again, and...perhaps...carefully converse about his-

Deep in thought, he retraced his steps and started marching towards yet another lab extension.  _ Would _ confessing his feelings for her seem like the appropriate route? Well, rescuing someone and then beginning to rut two seconds afterwards certainly did not represent a realistic model. Whoever in bloody damnation scribbled those ridiculous romance booklets required lessons in courtship  _ themselves _ ! 

A small smile spread on Hordak’s face, as he spotted a door slightly ajar at the end of the hallway. Pulsating light was spilling out, accompanied by the murmur of a small engine and other sounds of science in progress. 

Ahhh. There she was. 

The warlord’s visage however contracted into yet another scowl, as he pushed the door open. A set of tubes was processing mineral separation in the middle of the anteroom, outside the carefully constructed compartment with its own efficient ventilation system and remote-controlled arms and other equipment behind a safety plex. Back against the entrance, Entrapta was hammering something apart with a chisel and a mallet, probably some of the ore recently delivered from Dryl. She had neither clad herself in protective gear, nor had she properly lowered her visor. The latter was probably due to the fizzy beverage held in one coil of hair. Even at the present, she brought it closer to her face, and slid the straw beneath the mask. Small flakes of rock were flying to the floor from where she stood. 

What the- Had he not stressed enough the vitality of protection yesterday? This must have been the thousandth time of such blatant neglect of a safety protocol…

“Entrapta. We will halt the separation process for a moment, and migrate the machinery behind the plex. Have I not-”

“It’s okay… It- it’s nearly done anyway.” She did not turn about to greet him, but continued with the chipping. 

Hordak’s eyes drew into slits, as he regarded the princess. A rigidity plagued her shoulders, and the tone of her voice sounded...off. It held a distinct catch to it, as if- 

What had destroyed the effervescence of the previous day?

“Done or not, I have not furnished a protective compartment for the purpose of collecting cobwebs and dust within. I am positive that-” 

She must not have perceived the clank of his heels or the proper direction of his voice over the rumble and bubbling of the devices. As Hordak was advancing on her workbench, she twisted a little to one side, likely to select a better chisel or perhaps finish whatever the straw could not reach in the bottom of the cup. Her visor was lifted up only for an instant, however it provided an opportunity long enough for him to witness her swollen eyes and red nose. 

He recognized those aftereffects. Had he not himself been excised from the Hive Mind with devastating results? Not to mention Imp, who suffered from his days of ill temper on occasion-

Red, fervent anger was beginning to boil somewhere deep in his mind, borne up from the abyss of primal instincts by the spreading batwings of protective urges just as ancient. All his excogitations about gracious, genteel approaches collapsed in on themselves. His tiny little beloved had been crying, and not merely shed a few tears at that. One required a longer upheaval of emotions or another type of misery to produce such an outcome, and he had noticed how the light had refracted off from recent wetness in the corners or her eyes. Whatever had come to pass had not...passed. 

He had never, ever beheld Entrapta in such a state during her residency in the Fright Zone. Forsooth, everyone sustained their moments of downcastness, but this…? 

She spotted him then, gasped, and slammed the visor down with one strand of hair. However, before the princess could perform another evasive action, the warlord reached her in two long strides. He pushed the visor back up with one hand, and cupped the back of her head and neck with his palm, so that she could not conceal her anguish again. He used the thumb and forefinger of his other hand to lift up her chin, to make her meet his burning glare and fangs bared into a snarl without a plate of metal between them. Still, due to her stature, he had to hunch forward considerably to focus on her face. 

“ _ What has happened? _ Entrapta?” Hordak demanded, his voice harsher than he had intended. “What has distressed you thus? Has someone hurt you?” 

It seemed that he had also miscalculated his size yet again. The massive thumb holding her chin, even if gently, extended well over her lower lip and pushed a little way into her mouth: He could feel moisture on his skin. However, he had ceased caring about such frivolities for now. By the sacred light of- If someone from the Horde had hurt her,  _ he would damn well sink his fangs into their throat and claw them to shreds- _

Before the warlord could charge on a bloody rampage, her entire bearing altered. Her eyes flew wide open, and her gaze shifted from his hand up to his face and back down again multiple times. A blush of such deep crimsonness spread on her cheeks that Hordak almost felt a wash of sudden heat radiating from her. She was mouthing something behind his thumb, but nothing audible seemed to emerge.

“Entrapta?” His snarl slowly retracted, and his voice softened. “What is ailing you?”

She was trembling now, her breathing growing ragged. Words apparently wanted to spill out of her, but the babbling, chattering princess the warlord had known for a year had momentarily been rendered mute. Before he could remove his thumb from her lower lip, she regained some momentum. 

She lifted up her hand, and with tentative fingers brushed at his wrist close to her visage. As it apparently did not dissolve under her touch, she fumbled upwards, and curled her hand around the base of his thumb. The hold was cautious at first, but acquired firmness as she stared up at him, sheer round-eyed disbelief in her rather teary regard. Another tiny hand soon crept up and grasped two of his fingers. Well, that was about as much as she could muster due to their solid thickness. She kept clinging to his hold as if it were a lifeline. 

Still the princess did not respond, or mayhap could not. Either by coincidence or a voluntary act, she pushed her face further into the hold of his hand, his thumb slipping over both her lips and up to touch the side of her nose. She scarcely seemed to mind, though; on the very contrary- 

A sound behind Hordak made his ears twitch, and his awareness jumped back to his immediate surroundings. 

What-

The rumble of the mineral separation machinery was developing a... _ whine _ . That...that was not appropriate behavior for the-

Entrapta might have apprehended the glitch well before the warlord, had he not obscured her view of the anteroom with his bulk. When he turned his head around to behold the ongoing operation, he saw some of the tubes twitching ominously. Within seconds, the whining sound had furthermore intensified, and risen in pitch. 

“SHIT!” Hordak growled, and without further ado, wrapped his arms around Entrapta’s torso and legs. Hoisting her up against his body, he took a leap towards the open door...

Next to him, the series of devices connected to various tubes hissed and whined and popped...and exploded. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to cut another chapter in two due to the increasing length, so there’s going to be one more after this.

Hordak could not waste a fraction of a moment to brood upon his actions. The square of the open doorway gaped in front of him, whispering of safety...yet at the same time it stood a million light years away, in another galaxy, in a different cosmos...

A loud bang resounded from behind him. The most basic of his instincts made him duck and fling himself forwards--impulses honed by ages spent on battlefields across his universe of origin, in the crossfire of myriads of different types of bullets and deadly rays. Something pinged off from the metallic plates of his armor and zoomed past his ears. Now, however, only the exit mattered, and the little tender being in the shelter of his arms. The heavy cloak was hampering his movements, but he rolled on the floor, holding Entrapta tight against his chest. He barely managed to reach the opening and throw himself to one side behind a wall, when another explosion sent debris hurtling after him. Smoke was beginning to billow out of the doorway by the time Hordak struggled to sit against the wall. 

Panting raggedly, he attempted to surge up in order to reach an emergency button higher up, but both of his legs had become entangled into the folds of the cloak. 

Bloody thing- He tore at the textile, and a second later struck his claws directly into the steel of the wall. Hoisting himself up with the support thus gained, he slammed the button down. The door angled shut on automated hinges, cutting off the potentially perilous smoke. The possibility of further explosive chain reactions however still menaced them, not to mention the remnants of the smoke lingering in the corridor containing potential toxins, so the warlord hastened away from the spot as fast as his heels allowed. The oxygen depletion system had already kicked into action in the chamber; an alarm was shrieking throughout the annex, summoning Horde soldiers specialized in fire prevention and hazardous material handling to rush in to the site of the accident.

A few corridors away, Hordak halted. He inhaled deep several times, and brushed strands of sweaty hair off from his eyes. However, his relieved expression hardened into dread, as he recalled-

The warlord glanced down. He was supporting Entrapta in the crook of his arm, one hand securing her legs. She had wound some of her hair around his torso to stabilize herself, and pressed her face against the side of his neck, one hand gripping the fabric of his robe tight. However, she was slightly rocking against his chest--one of her mannerisms, which perhaps was not subjected to the control of her will. Such motions however increased in frequency when she displayed excitement, or the very rare case of stress. Howbeit-

The warlord groaned, as he comprehended the actual state of affairs. 

The front of his robe was splattered with blood. By the sacred dominion of Pri- Terror squeezing at his throat, he lifted the princess a little to gain a more thorough view. His quick assessment detected no injuries to his own vitals, but Entrapta-

Her right arm was hanging slack by her side, the sleeve stained dark red and something protruding out of her skin. Blood was trickling down the fingers of her glove and drip-drip-dripping to the floor. 

“Entrapta!” 

Uttering a string of the foulest profanities his reeling mind could muster, perhaps seeking strength from them as his God was commencing to fail him, Hordak lowered the princess onto the floor. More rapid appraisal followed; instincts honed by decades of medical studies--and further eons of tending to injured clones on the battlefield--overpowered any hesitancy. 

“Where does it hurt? Entrapta, tell me!” he growled, his gaze zigzagging over her body. Nothing else appeared amiss, yet how could he perceive if flying debris had bruised her or worse? Even as he hissed through his exposed fangs at the notion of his beloved being injured, he began slicing off some of the torn, bloodstained fabric from around her right upper arm. It appeared that several pieces of sharp metal had embedded themselves into her flesh along the length of the entire limb. Fleetingly Hordak recalled that something of the ilk had ricocheted off his own armor. His state, however, remained a secondary subject for now, especially as he experienced no pain beyond the usual in his body. 

Now, what could he utilize for emergency aid...ah, indeed. He snapped off one of the suspenders of her coveralls with a few flicks of his claws. Discovering no suitable support for the ersatz tourniquet and the sling he was preparing, he dashed to the door opposite and tore off the handle and a few more smaller segments. 

“It’s...” Entrapta inhaled sharp, her chest heaving and tears running down her cheeks. “J-just th-the arm, I t-think-” 

She flinched, as Hordak tightened the suspender around the upper arm, his digits flying to construct a temporary alleviation. He had not wrung the piece of fabric as taut as possible: Some fleety gauging had indicated that perhaps no arteries or larger veins had been severed. Blood was not gushing out in pulsating spurts; then again, he could not ascertain whether her little bones might have fractured or broken in the impact. Or if one of those fragments might be precariously blocking a slashed artery... 

His evaluation was cut short, as a thimbleful of energy was poured back into the princess. She tried to wipe some of her tears into her left sleeve, mumbling, “I’m- I’m okay... It’s not the f-first accid-”

The glaring red vehemence and fretting over her wellbeing that had been boiling inside the warlord fountained up again. First the lachrymose bearing and now discounting her own injury? He both desired to cradle her in his arms and demolish a wall with his bare claws at the same time; his explosive nature seethed in a dangerously volatile state. A single one of those insidious fragments rebounding from a fatal angle, and he might have unfolded his arms only to behold a stagnant, glassy stare in her eyes...

“ _Not the first?_ _Not the first!_ Yet it might have been the dolorous conclusion to _everything_!” he bellowed, fangs bared into a rictus of a snarl. “Do you not comprehend _what you mean to me_ , you foolish little thing? Have I not stressed the safety protocols enough? Yet you have remained disinclined to pursue them, exposing yourself to hazard after hazard!”

Entrapta gulped, face contorted with fresh hurt and mayhap fear. His heart jolted painfully at the sight; he had neither intended to snap at her in such a ferocious manner nor increase her distress. Something in his outburst appeared to have caught her attention, however. 

“I- I’m sorry, I-” she stuttered, her gaze fixed to her knees. 

That timid, teary apology seemed to open a roiling portal into some sepulchral, hostile dimension directly within Hordak’s chest. Something cold and merciless leapt out, and lashed at his inners with needle-sharp talons. It was akin to beholding an altogether different person: Entrapta had been reduced into an aching, cringing shadow of her usual bold, extravagant self. Watching his massive, blooded hands constructing her an arm support only managed to underscore her tininess, as she hunched on the floor, back and shoulders rigid. 

“You- You...imprudent, silly creature-” he huffed, forcing his scolding tone to adopt a softer timbre. Contrariwise, did she not require soothing instead of rebuking? An encouragement, anything- She  _ had _ brought this upon herself in a manner of speaking, yet what about all his gratitude and love for her? 

What- What was he to do? If some higher entity somewhere allowed him to experience such bliss, he could perchance hold her later in his embrace, when all hurt and sorrow had dissolved into the static of the great void of space. He had to hasten her to the Sanctum where he could provide proper medical care and perform surgical operations, if ineludible. Now, however-

She- She had  _ enjoyed _ his touch during this instant that had occurred in some other time and dimension, far, far away. She  _ had _ , had she not? Wherefore else would she have acted-

As if impelled by a reflex, he halted his ministrations for a moment, and cupped her cheek with one hand. Well...more akin to cupped half of her head and neck, as his sheer bulk challenged many matters, but perhaps the idea mattered more. 

He turned her downcast visage to meet his, one thumb continuing to caress her cheek. Yet his mien twisted into an ugly grimace, as the fresh blood on his skin mixed with the wetness of her tears, and left an unsightly smear across her face. He expected nothing short of a disgusted scream to escape her lips within the following seconds. 

Entrapta, however, reacted in a counterintuitive manner to the touch of his soiled hand. She closed her eyes as fresh tears spilled out, her expression crinkling a little further. Nevertheless, she nuzzled her face against his palm, and exhaled a deep sigh when his thumb trailed from her lower lip and over one cheekbone up close to her ear. 

The sight and the velvety softness of her cheek pressing against his hand caused his heart to jitter. Unexpected warmth flooded his chest: Albeit her weeping, she  _ did _ find comfort in his gesture, and seemingly  _ yearned for more _ . 

By the time Hordak verbalized his lurching thoughts, he had managed to tame the tone of his voice. It did however retain its gravity.

“Entrapta. Look at me.”

Almost reluctantly, she opened her eyes and blinked at him, as the salt of tears stung her. 

“Did this not represent the second instance I had to rescue you within but a short span of time? I will not allow this to happen again. Perchance some of my...bodily features can be substituted for others upon an ill befalling, and I acknowledge your work in that. You, however? You...represent something...irreplaceable. I urge you to ponder upon the rather frivolous way you regard your own welfare. Now...I have nigh accomplished my first-stage assistance. I possess better wherewith of aiding you in the Sanctum.”

With hesitancy, Hordak pulled his hand away and resumed the binding. In the lack of better entwinements, he had snapped off her second suspender. Well...he would acquire her a set of new garments during the following days as recompensation. 

A moment later, he scooped Entrapta up into his arms, and stomped off towards the Sanctum. She might have been perfectly capable of walking--either using hair-legs or her proper ones--but he was having none of that. The warlord held her as tight against him as he dared, attempting to convey some modicum of solace with that touch. Then again, she had wound her good arm around his neck and one pigtail around his midriff as soon as he had lifted her up, pressing her head back to where it had lain before he had uncovered her miserable state. She remained uncharacteristically quiet, perhaps due to the pain and...perhaps something related to the close contact, as that had rendered her so wordless in the first place. 

As Hordak was rounding a corner, he heard the clatter of multiple approaching bootsteps. A fire brigade squad emerged from the shadows of the hallway, trailed by extinguisher bots. The Squad Leader ran to a halt before him and saluted. The warlord did not pretermit the way her eyes widened at the state and positioning of Entrapta in his clasp. 

“Lord Hordak! Do you or...Lady...umh, Princess Entrapta require aid?”

“Negative, I shall tend to her myself. Secure the perimeter of the corridor and make sure all oxygen is depleted from the chamber before barging in. You have dealt with that particular annex before, and recognize the ill prospect of further explosions.”

Hordak’s mind pushed the interruption aside as soon as the squad had vanished from view. He attempted to fish some coherence out of the roiling whirlpool of his thoughts and emotions: Pity and dread for her wellbeing clashed against ire and...something resembling hope. 

This was… This lay two galaxy clusters apart from the way he had intended to approach this little treasure. He had thirsted for that foolish, heavy-lidded smile on her face, and received...a response drenched in distress. 

Nonetheless, a response...

Therewith, the day had both schemed against and for them; it seemed that his vehemence to discover who had offended her had demolished some barrier between them. He no longer required a confirmation about whether the princess harbored feelings for him. Contrariwise, they might be stronger than he had ever dared to imagine. 

Now, he would need to reassure that nothing began masoning up another wall between them...

Once within the Sanctum, he lowered the princess down onto a clean workbench next to his medical equipment. She was no longer sniffling, but neither had she regained even a morsel of the usual bubbly cheer. Sighing, Hordak sanitized his hands, and extracted a terahertz scanner from a shelf high up, plugging the device into a power outlet and a large monitor. As he did so, his gaze brushed over the plates of his left rerebrace and pauldron. Something had dented the metal, but not breached the surface. Then again, he had not managed to shield Entrapta from whatever had assailed them from that direction... 

He turned back to her, and offered her a damp towel where she might wipe her bloodstained face.

“Are you positive you are not imbrued or hurting elsewhere? I will not conduct this examination on a single detriment, merely to discover on the following morn that you have perished due to internal bleeding from another illfare gone undetected.”

Entrapta did not grant him an immediate response. After discarding the towel, she nevertheless started gingerly patting herself down with one hand and coils of hair, one strand rolling up a loose trouser leg up to her knee and another pulling on the cuff of an overlarge sock. Her procedure showed a certain methodology: The outcomes of hazardous experiments had made her scrutinize herself for injuries prior to this, and she might have treated some of them on her own. 

“I...I don’t think so.” 

“Very well. Now, I must move your arm, and while I strive not to inflict further agony on you, I am afraid this will do so.” 

The warlord unraveled the sling that kept her limb in a ninety-degree angle, and set it straight against a large plate of metal. The princess cringed and whimpered in pain. 

Hordak gritted his teeth. By the sacred light of- If he could merely kiss and caress all ailments away… And here he stood, bracing himself for a medical operation.

Trepidation gnawing at his heart, he scanned the length of the arm with the device. A rotatable 3D model of her limb appeared in segments on the screen, details sharpening as the rendering engine calculated surface areas and locational data in the background. Entrapta followed his assessment, while he focused on specific layers displaying bone and blood vessels.

After a while of zooming in and shifting through various strata, Hordak let a small exhale of relief escape his lips. Nonetheless, that was but a partial easement. 

“Entrapta.” He indicated the image, and zoomed out a little to show a cross-section of her upper arm displaying a length of humerus and other anatomical structures. “Your bones and other critical functions stand undamaged. Notwithstanding...” He pointed at a misshapen object wedged into the flesh. “I must remove several of these fragments from both the upper and the forearm. One of them is...precarious, and hence I must hasten.” His fingers scrolled down, and magnified the image thereafter. “This sliver sits but a hair’s breadth from a major artery, and might split it as a consequence of a sudden muscle contraction. Furthermore, at least one of the fragments possesses a...barbed quality, and cannot merely be pulled out. I believe we can loosen the tourniquet now, however, as major bleeding seems not to be an issue. Where some internal bleeding does occur, I will inject an agent that will help staunch the flow.”

“I’m...sorry I...caused this mess,” the princess mumbled, letting her head drop, one coil of hair fidgeting with the visor. “You might have been badly hurt as well. It wasn’t my intent that...you’d need to perform surgery.”

Hordak heaved another sigh. “Nevermind. What has come to pass has done so, and we cannot retrace our steps back to the origin of cause and causality. I shall...return in a moment. Withal, would you prefer general or local anesthetics? Or none at all? Which I might not fathom, but I shall respect your choice in this.” 

“Local, I think...” 

“Very well. This might demand some time; I shall bring you something. Fluids you do require, as you have lost some, yet what about sustenance? When did you last consume any?”

“I...can’t really remember. I haven’t...had much of an appetite today. If...you could please bring something, that would be nice.”

The warlord let a concerned frown linger over her for a moment, before he hurried out. His mind was ticking off items on a mental list: a visit to the kitchens and perchance a detour via Entrapta’s chambers, as she might appreciate some article of comfort… Damned sparsity of his Sanctum; before encountering Entrapta, he had relished asceticism as one of the holy principles of his life. Lavishness and splendor belonged solely to his God, whilst the rest of the Horde brethren ought to grovel in humility. Divans, plush pillows, drapery… Heathens elevating themselves to deities with unneeded luxury…until the princess had carried a couple of purple cushions up to his throne, and he had cautiously tested them while she had been chasing ideas elsewhere. He had never discarded them since, and quite appreciated the sensation after spending hours on his feet.

Now, he required...an adjustable chair of some ilk for Entrapta, as her stature challenged the ways he might stand and focus on her. Of course, he might have trusted her to the Horde infirmary for care, yet did he not possess the greatest medical knowledge in the entire Fright Zone? All those experiments he had performed on himself during the course of decades to slow down the disturbing effects of his degenerative condition, resulting in the useful byproducts that the Horde now employed in the nursing of wounded soldiers…

He wondered whether he could have cured himself decades ago, had his explosive impatience not overwhelmed him so often upon a failure. Another wondrous aspect of Entrapta; that forbearance and the sheer curiosity to retry and retry…

He could not lose her; not a speck of that marvelous being. Now, at least he could facilitate her healing with some of those secondary inventions. 

Collecting all the necessities demanded two rounds from Hordak. After returning for the second time, he set a portion of tiny ration bars and a container of fluid to the reach of Entrapta’s hair. He had located a suitable chair and a support for the same piece of metal he had employed in the medical imaging. His wherewith of operating were rather improvised, but due to the cumbersome positioning of the slivers, he could not that well extract them, if she lay supine. He might operate on himself while hanging upside down from the ceiling, but the princess deserved all the meager comfort available. 

“I could sit on my hair?” she murmured, as Hordak adjusted the chair’s low backrest and arranged a cushion or two upon it. 

“I will not engage into a discourse about this, Entrapta. I have beheld the dark circles beneath your eyes; you have spent scarce time asleep, and might lose your concentration. I require all the precision I can get.” 

Before she could utter yea or nay, he lifted her up and back down upon the seat, plumped up the pillow behind her back a little, and placed her arm on the slanting surface of the sanitized sheet of metal serving now as his operating table. A faint blush crept on her cheeks as a result of his princess-handling, but was soon eliminated by the pain emanating from the injuries. 

Additional equipment followed. Another terahertz scanner was plugged into a larger screen to provide real-time data on the procedure. He was not unacquainted with surgeries on biological entities as small as Entrapta; implanting ports on the failed clone fetuses swimming in their liquids had required a great amount of precision. Sanitizing, setting tools and syringes on a tray, fetching a small cooling unit encasing vital injectables… As the last notion, he spread open a blanket he had retrieved from Entrapta’s quarters, one brow ridge raised in question.

“Does your plight necessitate further...warmth? Opinions over the perpetually cool atmosphere of the Sanctum have been expressed, yet...you seem to fare well without a jacket on regular days?”

Therewith, he realized he had only a while ago witnessed almost the exact same sequence of events, but from a different point of view. Him awakening from a fainting spell, after his decaying heart had not been able to pump enough blood up to his brain… In all appearances, it had now become his duty to provide her that external succor that she believed everyone sometimes needed. 

Entrapta gave a little nod, but did not pluck the piece of cloth from him with a coil of her hair. Instead, she allowed him to settle it around her, leaning slightly against him as he smoothed down some crinkles and secured it so that it would not slide down while he operated. 

Hordak’s brows knit together. He could not determine whether she _actually_ felt cold or… Well, she did not merely anticipate his touch, but indeed _hungered_ _for more_. No flinching, no disgust; being enfolded in his embrace clearly mollified her, not to mention her attempts to nestle against _anything_ he offered. 

Well… When he had finalized the surgery and extractions, he would, forsooth, grant her some more satisfying gesture than a mere entwinement of his arms around her. Yet...what? And how? What about all this courting he had striven to comprehend…? Then again, the whole damned endeavor had already imploded. Was there any rationale in wallowing in insecurity over that aspect? 

Therewith, what...what was  _ she _ expecting from him? A kiss? Or something more...intimate? Or mere closeness? Well, should she just wish to rest in his arms, he would with the utmost elan cradle her for the remainder of the day and long into the depth of the night. 

He furthermore realized that touching her did not make his cheeks shimmer with the heat of a billion suns any longer. Mayhap his concern over her had decided to overpower such corporeal reactions, or perchance the crumbling of the barrier between them had eased something within him. Either way, it did serve as a small relief amid all this wailing and gnashing of teeth. 

Now, however, he had to brush aside such observations, and commence the unpleasantries...

* * *

With care, the warlord peeled away the leftovers of the bloodstained fabric from around the splinters and the rest of Entrapta’s arm, and removed the glove. After wiping the skin as clean as he might, and some further sanitizing, he injected anesthetics into necessary locations. The princess followed the proceedings with some interest, a tiny spark of her usual, keen self shining in her eyes. Science could apparently uplift her spirits even when she served as the experiment. To accelerate the treatment, Entrapta had insisted on aiding him at least in some manner. She required a sheath or a cast of some ilk to keep the arm protected post-surgery, so she had suggested crafting one from the leftovers of his exoskeleton project. Therefore Hordak had paid yet another visit to her quarters, bringing along tools and some of that hard, yet flexible substance that served as the exomaterial for a portion of his new armor. 

Albeit the uninviting circumstances, it gladdened his heart to observe at least this degree of improvement in her bearing. So, while strands of her hair attached small strips of exomaterial together, Hordak started relieving her of the splinters. 

He tackled the one threatening an artery first, following the screen with a deep scowl of concentration. The splinter represented one of those nasty, jagged specimen, yet if he tugged the bloody thing a mite  _ this way _ , and aided a little bit with  _ this _ tool, along with-

The warlord exhaled with relief, when the fragment finally existed half a meter outside of Entrapta’s body, ensnared between his tweezers.

The princess grimaced at the jagged piece of debris not unlike a shard of glass. “Thank you, Hordak- I...”

“Nevermind that, now.” He deposited the piece into a waste tray, and began to treat the wound. “Albeit the extent of the damage, and if no complications follow, I would be inclined to estimate a healing time of about a fortnight for the entire arm. Or perhaps less, even, considering your...hmh...diminutive magnitude. We may expedite this with a variety of agents which can, say, knit together lacerated or separated fibres of muscle.”

“They’ve...never helped you reverse the atrophy?”

“Alas, no. This particular agent...it can solely aid in reattaching halves of tissue that already exists. It remains impotent when faced with the task of growing new ones.” Hordak inserted the chemical in question into the muscle. “I...well-nigh stumbled upon something fraught with promises years ago… However, the half-artificial, half-natural new muscle tissue I was able to develop withered and rotted away in a couple of days, resulting in a state of sepsis. I became ill to the point that I prognosticated my own demise to occur within hours. Yet...I prevailed.”

He fell silent. Entrapta’s expression had darkened to a swollen-eyed lour during the last few sentences: Scientific or not, perhaps some topics ought to be avoided for now. 

One more sharp piece of metal was outdrawn, one more wound treated and closed with a combination of automated stitching and localized tissue gluing agent. In regular circumstances, Hordak bore no ill sentiments against a lack of conversation. Now, however, the stretching stillness seemed to drag Entrapta back into an achy downheartedness, suffocating any flamelets of regained energy. Hence, Hordak raked his memory for another related subject associated with no sinister sub-plots, yet which might catch her interest. 

“At one point, I immersed into stem cell treatment options. That brand of research never flourished either, as such… I do wonder, though, if-” 

“What are stem cells?”

Hordak’s lips arched into a small smile. The very interruption he had been expecting…

“Ahh, now, that serves as a topic for a long-winded discussion. I shall instruct you in that branch of cellular biology and its applications, should you express enthusiasm for it.”

“Of course!” She managed a smile of her own, yet still rather lusterless. That sounds- Auuugh!”

Hordak flinched, yet retained a firm hold on his instruments. Entrapta had recoiled, as one of his tools had pushed into a muscle inexplicably outwith the reach of the anesthetics. She had also quickly paled beyond that of her incipient reaction in the corridor, and an almost aghast look marred her eyes, as she stared at the arm. He wondered whether this one errant jab had begun unveiling the full impact of the accident in a belated manner. Oftentimes a delay did occur between the physical and mental faculties, as the mind denied the obvious.

“We shall re-treat it with the numbing agent. Breathe deep, do not unduly fixate on what happened. In regular circumstances sans the agents I am providing to you, healing would insist upon a far longer timespan. Therewith...would you perchance prefer a diversion to which to pay heed instead? Something to read?”

She nodded, and Hordak soon returned with a hardcopy, a few bookmarks peeking out from between the pages. The treatise on the lost temples of the First Ones should keep her preoccupied. 

The rest of the operation continued in a deep silence, interrupted by the occasional rustle of pages and a slurp from the fluids container. The moment of her elation had passed, and even then it had been but a weak specter, ready to dissolve in daylight. On any regular day, she would have bounced along the walls at the notion of an entire domain of science hitherto unperused, pursued by much hand-flapping and manic cackling. 

Ruth and concern were seeping into Hordak’s inners again. What  _ was _ concealed within the core of that slump? Any previous physical hurt would have been revealed by now; had he not instructed her to examine herself, and no additional complaints had been issued? Unless she  _ was _ concealing a bruise somewhere. Then again...might she be...ashamed of something? If only he could read her a little better... 

How was he going to unsnarl this?

* * *

Sometime later, Hordak prepared to wrap a clean, breathable gauze around the arm. A nasty array of splinters glared up at him from the tray, but with his inventive treatment, the limb should heal well and fast. 

“Now...what would you prefer for pain and itching management? Once the anesthetics wear off, sleeping may prove vexatious, especially when the agents knit the severed tissues together. I possess both localized and oral options. Furthermore, should you bear concern over scarring, we can lessen that considerably as well.”

After some discussion, the warlord applied a few more chemicals to her arm. The completed cast snapped on top of the gauze, retaining the limb in a ninety-degree angle against Entrapta’s torso, unless one opened the clasps by the elbow. 

As Hordak cleaned his instruments and began shelving the medical devices, silence descended upon the Sanctum again, yet more oppressing and dismal than before. Entrapta had pushed aside the hardcopy, and studied the cast with an ever-grimming expression. A while passed, with mainly the occasional clack of his sabatons enlivening the gloom. Somewhere a cloning vat let out a wet gurgling sound, and ventilation machinery staccato’ed before changing speed. 

“Now…” Hordak paced over to one of his cabinets to pack away the last implements. “The next time you feel passionate about commencing an experiment of a more unstable nature, we will assemble all relevant machinery and instruments within the protective compartment, and you will not forget to don the proper gear yourself. That is, when the chamber in question is refurbished.”

He heard no response. When the warlord returned to the workbench, he halted in his tracks at the sight of Entrapta’s utter wretchedness. 

She had shifted on the seat, shed away the blanket, abandoned the low backrest to one side, and turned her entire form against the laboratory proper. Her clothing was a bedraggled mess. The sleeve missing from the top ended to a ragged edge over her shoulder, where his claws had shred away the fabric. The white garment beneath was askew and stained with dried blood, her coveralls quite as sordid and missing now both suspenders. He could deduce from the angle of her head that she was still mutely staring at the cast, and one did not require shamanistic prediction skills to guess that fresh tears might be pooling in her eyes. 

By the blessed light-throne of Pr-

Something was tearing at his heartstrings, twisting them in a vice-like grip. Fine, her arm had begun the journey along the path of mending, but, oh, that  _ unbearable ache _ ... He now believed she was blaming herself too harshly for the accident and the potential damage she might have caused to him, and somewhere beneath the weight of added angst and shame lurked the original woe. His mild but straightforward reproval a moment ago had perhaps further obumbrated her mood. 

He- He could not bear to lay his eyes upon that hunched, cowering form of hers. It was too much; the swollen eyes, the rigidity of her shoulders, the way every mote of rejuvenation rotted away within minutes...

He felt his heart being wrenched again. No, no, no! No, this was enough. Bloody well enough! Indeed, to damnation with platitudinal cordialities and mating dances or whatever this  _ courting _ was supposed to entail; he could not suffer this sight a second longer. She required something far more than a simple embrace, far more than mere soft words. 

With a swish of his cloak, the warlord reached the princess in a few long strides, and halted just behind her. His hand pushed aside one pigtail, and trailed the breadth of her shoulders, skirting her neck and sliding down to her throat from behind. His right arm wrapped itself around her midriff, carefully circumnavigating the cast. 

Now...he would kiss and caress every shade of misery away from her, and continue to do so till every last whimper of pain had turned into that of rapture. If she allowed it, he would enter deep into her, and fondle her most tender and intimate areas of pleasure with his shaft as long as he could, until she became utterly languid in his arms, profoundly sated… 

He assented that he was committing blasphemy against his God, and...that  _ he did not care _ . Doctrine stated that only the life-giving hands of his Maker bore the right to be kissed, yet so did Entrapta’s crafty fingers enable new beginnings. Whereas his God jealously demanded unilateral devotion, the princess had asked for nothing in compensation for the exoskeleton, for one thing. Never exacted repayment for  _ anything _ she had done to him. 

Now, however, he would not brood upon his act of sacrilege. The impact would hit him later, yet perhaps in a far less drastic manner than before. 

He tightened his hold on her, his chest pressing against her back. Oh, how supple and warm she felt against him, what a heaven on earth… An ancient protective urge dwelling somewhere in the deep layers of his consciousness purred at the sight of her tiny form fitting so snugly beneath the shelter of his armored arm. 

His fingers closed around her throat, gently beginning to fondle her neck. On the other side, he brought his lips down on the soft flesh just below her jawline. The silky texture of her skin and the sensation of her pulse beating against the touch of his lips flushed him with crimson desire.

Ah, she would find sweet, sweet pleasure in his arms, a mellifluous conclusion to all this anguish...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have an illustration for this chapter. You can find it [here](https://kuurankaiho.tumblr.com/post/636200542079746048/fanfic-art-colored).
> 
> Apologies for yet another chapter split!

Entrapta had not paid much attention to her surroundings since Hordak had finalized attaching the cast. Deep shame gnawed at her heart, and she yearned to sink into an endless, somber abyss and remain there for the rest of her days. A forgotten vent channel somewhere in the cellars of the tower, leading to a cramped, fusty space between the walls… Nobody would discover her there. She would represent a danger neither to herself nor to anyone else. 

What an utter fool she had been, indeed, if not quite in the manner dictated by yesterday’s self-flagellation. As a consequence of her insecurities, however, the gloomiest hours of the night had turned into a muddle of splintered sleep, granting her no respite. Grim, jagged dreams--reminiscent of her present, disconsolate desire--where she miscarried all love and perished alone somewhere in the bowels of Dryl, frail of old age and mortally exhausted of her life-long solitude, had pursued one another. Failure, failure, failure, they named her.

Entrapta spent most of her time within the realm of thoughts. She could not ascertain it, of course, but she did believe most other people perceived time and their immediate surroundings in a different manner, more observant of ongoing physical events and their influence on other sentient beings. More conscious of transient sights and movements, from silent social cues to body language, aware of fine nuances in the expectations of other people... Clinging to sometimes illogical traditions, focusing on a broader range of life-aspects and interests, rather than their current hyperfixation...

Entrapta...theorized, analyzed, contemplated, and when the miserable mood struck her, overintrospected everything. Hence, poor sleep and weltering nose deep in her own angst had rendered her even more oblivious to the present, making her forget Hordak’s concerns and admonitions. 

The result was glaring up at her, stuck to her midriff for now. Without her prehensile hair, she would have been incapacitated to the point of requiring help with such mundane tasks as dressing and hygiene. 

Along with that thought, she realized that Hordak himself had been dealing with the exact issue perhaps for decades, relying on assistive technology to satisfy his most basic needs when not able to wear the life-support armor. And here she was, sulking over a measly fortnight… How bloody selfish  _ was she _ ? On top of that, Hordak had saved her life  _ twice _ , and she had nearly invalidated the first. Her scatterbrained forgetfulness might have resulted in much worse physical impairments, or to the death of either one. 

A part of her mind recognized she was overplaying it, subjecting every detail to the harsh scrutiny of a merciless demon to which only perfection mattered. Even though Hordak had reprimanded her, he had also attempted to console her, and actually  _ did _ care. He  _ had _ caressed her yesterday; she could no longer misidentify the texture of his skin. 

Still, in the light of all that had occurred, her behaviour felt even more mortifying and reckless. On the very instant, she loathed herself for the horrible contingency of Hordak having been hurt; the person who had kindled love in her, who inspired her with his unfathomable knowledge and intellect, who never judged her...and who had now patiently tended to her injuries. 

_ She was so bloody egocentric _ ... A crack appeared in the dam of her faltering composure, making her breath hitch, as tears threatened to well in her eyes again. No, no, no, not another bloody outpour of sobs! How much of a damned failure did she have to be, unable to bear the consequences of her own, stupid egocentricism without  _ crying again _ ... 

The black clouds of misery surrounding her perception occluded her to the point that she snapped awake only when she felt something massive trapping her from behind. She had neither heard anyone approaching her, nor discerned the long shadow stretching over the seat. The princess blinked and gulped, staring uncomprehending for a moment at the plated arm the width of a tree trunk lodged across her torso. However, the clawed digits tightening around her throat ultimately made her grasp the nature of unfolding events. 

Hordak’s hand was so enormous it covered her clavicles, the entire neck, and some of her lower jaw all at the same time. She shuddered, gaze transfixed to the monstrous thing that might have, without much effort, snapped her neck and crushed bones with a single squeeze. It was one thing to fantasize about Hordak penetrating her every way possible while her wrists and ankles were strapped to the Portal frame, and then  _ actually _ have him surprise her like this.

He never did apply force on her, though. On the contrary, his fingers were gently fondling her sensitive skin, slow and a little tentative, as if but becoming acquainted with the whole idea. A mere instant passed, and his lips were lingering upon the same tender area on her neck he had caressed the previous day, his breath hot and moist against her bare flesh. 

The unexpected sensations left her inhaling raggedly, a fierce fluttering in the pit of her stomach and her chest erupting into life. 

W-what was happening? Was Hordak attempting to comfort her? But… Wouldn’t he hold her against him, rather than... Why- 

It seemed he was not content with a little peck either. After a detour via the back of her neck, he began advancing towards the front, devouring her skin with wet, open-mouthed kisses. She let out an involuntary whimper, as his mouth slid over a particularly sensitive spot. As if awaiting for such a reaction, he dawdled on the patch of skin, kissing it over and over again, eventually suckling her a little. On the other side, his fingers discovered more delicateness, a huge thumb wandering into her mouth. 

The fluttering sensation transformed into a veritable squirm, and she could not stifle another, longer, high-pitched mewl. The warlord hummed against her skin, as if satisfied with the result. A moist heat had started building up between her legs, craving for more blandishments. 

Entrapta’s comprehension tottered on weakening knees. What-  _ What was he doing to her? _ Why would he caress her in such a way, if his intent was to console her after a painful episode? 

He abruptly tipped her head back in order to access her throat with his lips. Up close, her chin skimming the side of his face, even his head proved much more massive than previously perceived. The skull was elongated and concluded to angular, hefty jaws that might easily crush her delicate little neck with a single chomp. She caught a brief glimpse of his red-burning fangs the size of her longer finger joints, and trembled at the sight. Commonly his face loomed somewhere over two feet above her, awash with shadows, creating an impression of something far less tangible. Now, his jaw forced her head even further back, till she sat ensnared between his chest, the ponderous arm, and those dread-inspiring beastly features, rendered almost immobile. With a squirm, she attempted to free her left arm from his clasp, but it would not budge either. His right hand had wrapped itself around the entire forearm, holding it in place against her midriff. 

And yet, the touch of his lips upon her sensitive throat… Every kiss, every suckle was but another delicious, irresistible assault on her senses, making her mind spin and little whimpers escape her mouth. Entrapta attempted to find words to utter, fumbled at his name, yet was struck dumbfounded by the juxtaposition of his monstrous presence and the sensuous caresses. Nobody had ever fondled her in such a manner; moist, hungry kisses that deliberately lingered upon her most sensitive areas, a steadfast embrace that would not allow her to escape even if the walls of the Sanctum collapsed around them… Even so, slight fear mingled with her arousal: She both trembled and felt wetness filling her folds, breathless and tiny beneath his enormous bulk. 

Still, that dread was fickle: From the very start she had found his alien characteristics oh-so wickedly erotic. Perhaps those feelings related to one another, representing but the two sides of the same quirk. Awe animated and intensified the excitement. 

  
  


Then, he licked her. His fangs were pressing against the softest, most vulnerable flesh of her throat, and his tongue trailed a slow path from below one ear all the way up to the underside of her chin. He probably would have continued across her entire neck, had her agitated brain not decided to intervene. 

Her mind could not decide whether this was the most erotic moment of her entire life, or whether she had fallen prey to a ravenous vampire, ready to tear her jugular open after seducing her helpless. The caress of his hot, rough tongue left a new, wet trail on her skin, where saliva from his kisses had barely begun to dry. A thumb stroked the site of her pulse near the hollow of her neck, only a thin layer of fabric separating it from the long, sharp claw capable of piercing solid steel. The sensations were so wild and bestial that her full body tensed, and she let out an undignified squawk. 

Hordak halted his motions immediately upon her reaction, and pulled his head away from her throat. His hold on her loosened, the soft caress of his fingers retreating. 

Panic erupted within Entrapta. No, no, no! She had barely tasted her first proper intimate moment with the person she loved, the first proper intimate moment  _ ever  _ with anyone, and now she had disgusted him away with her stupid,  _ bloody idiotic _ reaction? She  _ never _ could adhere to other people, could she? Her hair sprung to life, strands coiling about him in a desperate attempt to draw him back. The supports of her composure seemed to warp and crumble beneath the crushing heft of today’s failures heaped upon yesterday’s heartgrief. Tears that had barely dried welled up in her eyes again, and a stuttering beseechment left her lips. 

“H-Hordak- No! No, p-please...please don’t stop- Please don’t go-” Her voice cracked, and she burst into uncontrollable sobs, her entire body heaving and shaking. 

In an instant, the warlord responded. His left arm wound around her entire torso from behind, the hand cupping the right side of her head. Hampered by her size, he did not seem capable of fitting his other arm anywhere, and ended up placing it diagonally over her body, one enormous hand curling around her thigh.

A little clumsy, yet it was everything she hankered; a warm and safe embrace, a confirmation that she had not failed yet again. However, once the dam securing her turbulent emotions had shattered, she could not staunch the hysterical weeping. A strand of hair pulled the glove off from her remaining good hand, and she grasped Hordak’s fingers, yearning to feel all of him with her proper senses. She pressed his hand firmer against her face, kissing his palm and digits, tasting the salt of her own tears upon the aroma of his skin. She never wanted to be torn away from him, never-

“Entrapta. What afflicts you?” a soft rumble by her ear inquired. “I am not inclined to...forsake my Sanctum or you at the moment. Wherefore would you opine thus?” 

“I...I-” she began, but shame mingling with her sobs garbled her words. She mouthed soundless, fragmentary expressions for a while against his palm, yet nothing coherent emerged.

The warlord made a shushing sound and rocked her back and forth for some time. Something in that cherishing gesture made her shiver; it clashed so violently against his looming, intimidating figure and the very formal, old-fashioned way he expressed everything. She had not quite expected him to be capable of such tokens of affection. Perhaps this was how he consoled Imp after he took a misjudged turn during flight and crashed against a wall. 

The gentleness, the warmth of his body and the slow, becalming beat of his heart against her midriff began to soothe her. Eventually, the teary outburst diminished into the occasional sniffle. Nevertheless, she listened to his steady breathing and the silence of the Sanctum for what felt like half an eternity before he spoke again. 

“Are you faring better?”

“A...b-bit,” she mumbled into his hand.

“I acknowledge that the pain prevention treatment might not provide perfect succor as a consequence of probable anomalies in nerve structures and so forth, but verily this is not what torments you. I did previously express concern about your dolorous bearing, did I not?” 

His hand left her cheek for a moment and carefully removed her visor. A part of her mind yelped in protest. That was her last shelter behind which she could hide when a cacophony of too many sensory stimuli or confusing sentiments overmastered her, when her sometimes forced equanimity cracked and she had to conceal, not feel- 

However…bloody damnit, this was  _ Hordak _ ! He was  _ her _ Sanctum; someone in whose presence she had to fear nothing. Granted, some ridiculous instinct might shriek some bloody claptrap about him rending her throat open, but his true disposition towards her resided in an altogether different galaxy. 

His hand soon returned to its previous place, but turned her face more towards him. She felt the weight of his head upon hers, his warm cheek pressing against her forehead, the brush of his lips over one brow. “You have scarcely slept or nutrified yourself. Whatever grievance befell you yesterday while I was conferring elsewhere? Did some fiend assail you or dispraise you with misbegotten words?”

Entrapta gulped back tears, savoring his embrace, the solid weight of his chest rising and falling against her body. How- How was she going to elaborate her blatant stupidity to him? A portion of her screamed for the shelter of the visor, a coil of her hair began to twitch- No, no, not  _ this _ again! She was safe, utterly safe with her beloved! With a cumbersome effort, she wrestled the increasing panic back into the darker layers of her mind. He… He did deserve an explanation, didn’t he? 

“I...I’m good with tech, but not that brilliant with people,” she slowly wove her embarrassment into words. “I- I can’t read facial expressions or body language that well-”

“I am aware of that. Now, if you were preparing to berate yourself over this, do not proceed. It represents an innate aspect of you; no more, no less. If this serves as an introduction to you having misconstrued something, then that is relevant.”

Entrapta sighed. Of course that astute, brilliant man would have been able to decrypt  _ her _ . “Nobody...hurt me. I...thought I had...misread  _ you _ .” Burning, red shame crept on her cheeks. She squeezed her eyes shut and cringed involuntarily, as humiliation jeered at her from every side, underlining her guilt and inanity. 

“W-what happened y-yesterday… W-when you...t-touched me…” she sobbed, “I- I t-thought m-my feelings for y-you might n-not be...unrequited after a-all. But I’m...I’m not confident, I couldn’t… I couldn’t judge if I were...right or wrong. After s-so many failures t-t-t-” She inhaled hard, letting out a little whining sound as she, in vain, attempted to contain her heartache. Hordak shifted his position, sliding the hand from her cheek down to her throat again, and wound his right arm around her midriff. The weight of his head left the top of hers, and she instantly missed the feeling. Was he somehow...disgusted with her? 

Desperation made her almost yell the rest of her stuttering disclosure. “I- I’m s-so f-fucking tired of b...being alone! I h-have misread people so many times in the past, t-t-that I t-t-thought I had imagined things! I...I thought t-that...I’d ruin our friendship if I t-told y-you I felt something more; you...you’d be o-offended or worse. I f-felt so shitty-”

“Shush now, you little thing. Nothing has been mistranslated.”

Her outburst was ultimately cut short, as she felt Hordak’s lips starting to explore the back of her neck. A finger or two at her throat slid beneath the fabric of the plum-colored top to stroke her. 

Entrapta swallowed, rendered mute by the continuance of these sensations so crudely interrupted: The light prod of his claws against her skin, the sultry moistness of his mouth, as his lips trailed over the contours of her neck and around to the left side... In spite of her sobbing, she shivered in pleasure, and his tongue emerged to lick her again. A soft mewl left her mouth at the sheer deliciousness of the sensation. She could hardly stop herself there, when his tongue decided to journey across the left side of her neck in a bolder manner.

Rekindled arousal was starting to overcome her sorrow. She still could not quite grasp his intentions, the endearing embrace clashing with the blatantly erotic stimulation. Perhaps he did not understand the difference between the two concepts when it came to her? Or  _ was _ he attempting a romantic approach, yet not quite internalizing all the peculiarities revolving around the idea? 

Then again, did she really comprehend courting either, in her complete lack of experience? In the world of her actual expectations, some moderate kissing and hand-holding belonged to the proper norm of becoming first amorously involved with a real person, and yet her raucous Sanctum fantasies dived straight into hard ramming.

After a moment, Hordak began fiddling with the tiny hooks that fastened the plum-colored top from behind. A few were unclasped and the fabric peeled to either side, his lips and tongue eager to taste the skin thus revealed. More clasps followed, more of her bared flesh subjected to his hunger. She did not resist; how could she? The sweet ache between her legs had quickened to full bloom, merely stoked by his briskening breath and the deep, baritone hum close to her ear. 

“Now...let us divest you of this ruined thing...” Hordak exhaled against the back of her neck, pushing the fabric over her shoulder, slowly rolling the remaining sleeve away and replacing it with kisses along the arm. On the right side, where most of the garment was already missing, he had not been that patient, but sliced the remaining parts asunder with his claws. 

“I shall acquire you something...pleasant instead to overlay your...lissome contours.” He discarded the tattered rag on the floor, and returned to her newly exposed features. He seemed fascinated by them, planting kisses on her shoulders and letting his hand trace the shape of her collarbones, brushing over a generous amount of cleavage at the same time.

Entapta felt more heated wetness trickle down her core and into her panties; Hordak must have been quite aware of the effect of his blandishments. Whatever his intentions--or a misunderstanding of conventional protocols--she would crumble in devastation, if he chose to abandon her now. A deep, velvety timbre laced his voice, one she had never heard before, not to mention his choice of words.  _ Lissome _ did not belong to her vocabulary due to its obscure status, but the way he intoned it in a slow, almost lazy way, only managed to send sparks of lust through her. It was as if-

“You do enjoy this, do you not?” he respired into her ear.

She could only nod in her slight confusion. There was a...palpable, almost musky scent about him again, which-

As if to test the verity of her statement, he let his unusually long tongue slide over her right shoulder, along the tender little vale above the collarbone, over the site of her pulse and all the way up to her cheek. He attacked too many sensitive spots at once; the flood of sudden stimulations turned her whimper into an audible moan. 

“Mmmm...splendid. The very sound I desired to hear from you,” he drawled, tilted her head back to rest against him, and slipped his hand down to her left breast. His digits began gently kneading the yielding flesh, even as his tongue continued to study the newly revealed skin on either side of the hollow of her neck. 

By Etheria… He- he  _ wanted _ her; no doubts hovered over that aspect any longer. He- he really did seek to kindle a fire within her, to make her soaking wet for him-

Abruptly, Hordak unbent his back and faced her in a direct manner for the first time since beginning to clear away the medical equipment. Even then the warlord managed to loom over her, the steep shadows within his high collar accentuating the cadaverous pallor and the skull-like features of his visage. A lurid leer stretched his mouth wide, revealing the full extent of his sharp fangs. His fulgent gaze seemed to consume her raw; the unsated lust oozing from his every pore was so tangible even she could not mistake it for what it was. 

Her breath hitched and she flushed nearly to the roots of her hair at the sight. Oh, indeed, she  _ had _ descried this expression several times from the corner of her eye during the past days, and fumbled at the meaning of it. Those occasions however paled to wan spectrers before this clamant hunger. His beastly semblance only enkindled her arousal; the ache between her legs was growing unbearable as more nectar of her rapture pooled into her underwear. Her regard transfixed to the jagged line of his teeth, the way his tongue flicked over the fangs. And, indeed, a strange, aromatic odor emanated from him, tickling her nose and inducing a desire to respire more of it. Did he actually release pheromones when stirred up to a full blaze? She could not see down to the level of his crotch due to the angle, but she did suspect that whatever hid behind the robe might have sprang to life, complementing her own drenchedness. 

Hordak brought his visage closer to hers. “Ah, my sweet Entrapta… You mewl so delightfully when I lick you…” His fingers on her breast found a hardened nipple, and pulled on it. 

Entrapta moaned and twitched, to which he responded with a rich, baritone chuckle. Oh, the deep, teasing timbre of that voice stroking her ears, the  _ possession _ it presupposed…  _ My _ sweet Entrapta? She had comprehended the straightforward rebuke back in the corridor, that she meant something invaluable to him and should thus take better care of herself.  _ This,  _ however? 

The way he had begun ‘consoling’ her did not seem so perplexing any longer...

The warlord, in the meanwhile, played with the sensitive little nub a while longer, then slid his digits beneath the white top. 

“Ahhhh… Let us not allow these vestments to conceal the entrancement of these...voluptuous silken mounds, like luxurious cushio- Aghhh-”

In his enthusiasm to release her breast out of her clothing, his claws had shot through both the bra and the overlaying fabric. The interlude broke the spell of her fluster, and the princess let out a breathy, albeit a nervous giggle. He did not quite fit the description of the suave, seducing creature of the night portrayed in romance novels after all. Luxurious cushions? Well, that matched  _ technologically sound _ in such an apt manner. 

The moment furthermore made her acutely aware of her own thirst to feel more of him. Oh, how much she desired to kiss him, to please this man she adored... His slight bumbling granted her the opening she required. He was no longer pinning her left arm against her torso, and he had ceased existing solely somewhere behind her. A strand of hair nudged his head closer to hers, and she slid her good hand along his neck and up to his cheek. Her lips found his, eager to convey her love and longing for him-

That, however, did not proceed so smoothly either. Entrapta had never kissed anyone on the mouth before, and could not quite grasp the mechanics upon the first attempt. She mashed her lips against one of his enormous fangs as he moved slightly, barely avoiding a nick to her lip. 

As she was about to retry, Hordak decided to seize the moment and respond. His hand closed around her neck and lower face from behind. A thumb appeared on her lower lip, and pressed her whole jaw further down to accommodate his size. Before she could react, he clamped his mouth against hers, his tongue slithering straight in. 

Her eyes flew wide open at the onslaught: he rumbled into her mouth as his tongue began to massage hers, the sharp points of his claws pressing into her tender skin, yet not piercing it… It- It was... _ beyond delicious _ . By Etheria, if only she could have experienced this feral sultriness before... Her giddy-witted Sanctum fantasies were beginning to blanch in comparison before his domineering, uncouth passion, as they lacked the heat and intimacy of a true, sensuous contact. 

Entrapta returned his wild kiss as best as she could, her movements garnering confidence. Hordak indeed seemed to defy the conventional patterns of mutual pleasing, and perhaps instinctively used his tongue more for all tokens of affection. Furthermore, her maneuver had rendered him indifferent to the state of her clothing. With a few flicks of his fingers, both the bra and the top fell apart, and her plenteous breasts burst out of their bindings. 

The princess was gasping for breath by the time he pulled away, her pulse hammering against her ribs. Hordak licked his way down her neck, dawdling on the sensitive place just upon her heart, before concentrating on her exposed breasts. Entrapta felt as if she were melting in his embrace, unable to stifle her moans as his large tongue conquered every tender area, leaving wide, wet trails on her skin. While his hand roamed along her thighs, squeezing and massaging their ample softness, his lips found her nipples, and he suckled and nibbled at them, making her squirm. The inner walls of her core gave a flutter; through the haze of rapture she realized she might soon climax without him even having stroked the oh-so-needy sweet spot between her lower lips.

In the meanwhile, she inhaled his heady scent, and planted slow kisses upon his scalp and forehead, stroking his short, dark indigo hair with her good hand. The quality was much finer than she had expected, smooth and almost fluffy. Judging by the deep rumbling sounds he uttered every time she caressed him, Hordak enjoyed her touch immensely. The membrane of his long ears felt very humanlike, and as she let her own tongue fondle them, she could only hope they were as sensitive as she believed.

And, oh, that unallayed ache between her legs… She thirsted for him to enter her in every way possible, to claim her completely… Thrusting her hips back and forth and attempting to rub her clit against the inner seam of her coveralls helped nothing. No, no, she had to feel  _ him _ as intimately as possible when the fire within her flared up high...

The princess unbuttoned one side of her coveralls to create more space for Hordak. She then grasped his hand that was kneading her right inner thigh, and guided two of his long fingers into the garment and deeper into her underwear. She kissed the top of his head and moaned into his hair as her moist, hooded little pearl met the firmness and rough texture of his digits.

At that, Hordak halted the worship of Entrapta’s bosom and blinked. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment.


	7. Chapter 7

Hordak could not conjure up proper verbiage for what his fingers felt; that supple, velvety softness drenched in Entrapta’s arousal... An intoxicating aroma had emanated from her for a spell now, tickling his nostrils and summoning a flood of unquenchable ardor from the unfathomable, primal reaches of his consciousness. The fragrance intensified twofold as her coveralls loosened, unfolding a path to her most intimate valleys. Cautiously, all too aware of the sharpness of his claws, he slid his fingers back and forth a smidgen, Entrapta’s luscious mewls by his ear compounding. 

Nevertheless, his intent was to make her climax in a far more sensuous manner, desiring to see the flow of her nectar whilst doing so. The warlord extracted his hand from her trousers, and cocked his head at the sticky substance coating his fingers. He inhaled deep at the tantalizing scent, and tasted at the liquid fruit of his blandishments. 

Entrapta was staring at him with a heavy-lidded gaze, a beguiling blush upon her olive skin. Her mouth was just a little open, teeth parted, as if inviting him to share the taste. Her visage however turned to express round-eyed astonishment as he placed a moist finger into her mouth, careful not to scrape her delicate flesh. She neither retreated nor yanked his hand away in disgust, though: On the contrary, she closed her eyes and started sucking on his digit, as if desperate to welcome any part of him anywhere within her. 

“Mmmm… How soaking wet you are for me...” he drawled, stroking her cheek while she licked his finger. “I shall fill you well and profoundly, so that no area of the utmost pleasure within your secret reaches shall remain unfondled. I posit, however, that I must ready you in a sufficient manner before sating you thus.”

Entrapta’s bosom heaved, and her dilated gaze bespoke of heightened rapture. Something in his description had...titillated her, which he found most alluring. There was no doubt that her fire burned for him only. The warlord lifted her up, and lowered her on the workbench which granted more space for her to lie on her back and perchance in other...ravishing positions. He redeposited the cushions behind her back and head for some comfort, and reassured that the straps of the cast held firm. 

“Now...behind my robe, I am rather more proficient in length and breadth than the average Etherian, and a mite...peculiar, perchance. I have not encountered quite the comparable physique during my extensive research into the genetics of this planet. I am positive that I can accommodate you to receive me after proper, albeit lengthy, stimulation and preparement of your honey-vessel.”

The princess did not respond, but her hair sprang to life. Coils attacked the latches of his armor to remove the pieces while others wound around his torso and pulled him closer to her.

“Entrapta. No.” He untangled one strand from around his forearm. “I will...not have this.”

A frown spread on her visage, emphasizing the remnants of recent misery still etched upon it. “W-What’s wrong?”

Hordak inhaled deep a few times, becalming himself in order to retain a softer tone of voice. “It would be ill-advised to leave me bereft of my vital supports.” He hesitated for a moment whether to open up to her about the details, yet...did she not merit honesty? “For one thing, I am...wary of attempting an intercourse outwith the electrical impulses correcting the rhythm of my frail heart. Therewith, I might faint, or sans the artificial muscle tissue correcting my motions, lose the control of my fingers and wound you. Even at the present, I must practice great vigilance to avoid the dire mischance of my claws wreaking unwanted havoc.”

Her hair loosened and gradually retreated, concern and disappointment darkening her countenance. “But...I want to please you in return. How can I fully do that, if-”

The warlord bent over her, his hand reclaiming its position around her throat again, so that he held her face between a thumb and a forefinger. Oh, he could have drowned in those fathomless, dark magenta pools of her eyes and the cunning intelligence within, but now he sought for a direct line of regard between them. In her dolorous state, the princess had shunned his gaze, and it seemed he had not yet finished stressing some matters to her either.

“Ah, you will be granted opportunities aplenty for that.” He shifted the position of his thumb to caress her lower lip. “Notwithstanding, I believe the occasion calls for  _ you _ to succumb to my will, and I shall proceed as I please with you.” He grinned toothily at her, and she shivered beneath the long shadow he cast over her. “I have rescued you twice from a fatal peril, broken my assistive cybernetics for the sake of your survival, tended to your urgent needs with due haste and care… Need I express more in speech? I will not have you fling me about with your hair this time. However, as I stated mere moments ago, I  _ shall _ pleasure you thoroughly; unto the mists of the dawn to come and beyond, should you still lie unreplete in my arms. I will not behold that exhausted hurt, borne of sore misintelligence and its regrettable consequences, in you come the morn. And if enfeebled and aching you must remain, then it shall issue forth from the roiling, febrile passion that planted a plenteous hurt of another kind between your legs.” 

To his delight, the heavy-lidded gaze returned to Entrapta’s visage whilst he knit his words together. 

“Do...whatever you want with me,” she whispered, not breaking eye contact this time.

“Oh, I shall, rest assured. Although...you will let me know, if you flounder to gain enjoyment from something. Hmm?” 

She nodded.

“Very well. Now, let us see how drenched you are...”

Entrapta was about to reach for the buttons on the other side of her loins, but Hordak seized her hand in mid-air, tutting, “ _ I _ will do as I please. Even how I undress these befouled bipartitions.” He spread her legs wide, lifting up her hips to access her better. Grinning at her, he stroked her mound over the coveralls before running one claw along the stitches of the bottom seams. The thread produced an audible  _ pop-pop-pop _ , and he yanked the separated flaps of fabric apart to create a hole of an adequate size to the seat of her trousers. Entrapta’s breath hitched, and he chuckled at her clear indication of delectation. The garment would be easy to stitch together, if she still coveted it afterwards. 

Beneath, for his mild surprise, she was clad in Horde standard, almost in the same hole-less model he had selected. As he bent down to inspire the scent of her honeydew, he rubbed her over the thin fabric, making her whimper and shy away a smidgen.

“You have soaked through your nether habiliments and effused well into your coveralls. Mmmmh...most excellent, indeed.” The sodden textile yielded effortlessly for him. Short lavender hair grew over her lower lips, which he now parted with his fingers, carefully stroking the silky flesh here and there. However, the princess arched her back involuntarily and retreated a mite more upon the direct contact.

A line creased Hordak’s forehead. Wherefore all this abrupt demurring? When she had steered his digits into her coveralls, she had lain restful, yearning for more stimulation. Could there be a significant difference between the two approaches? 

Perhaps...she had never become habituated of someone else touching her most receptive and delicate areas without some degree of intervention? Her neck and breasts had proved most erogenous as well, and she had savored his blandishments with gusto. However that reaction to his first lick bore a resemblance to this… What ought he to do?

Judging by her lamenting mere instants ago, his dearest had so far existed as a lonely little flame in Dryl, surrounded by her marvelous innovations, however just as deprived of love and physical contact as he had been. Hmh. Did the moment necessitate for some more teasing, rather than him plunging headlong, or tonguelong, into her? Her reproductive and erogenous anatomy appeared similar to the examples of humanoid Etherians he had canvassed in his library, and a well-placed touch here and there ought to allay and dulcify her further. 

Hence, he elevated one of her legs instead, eased off the shoe and the baggy sock beneath, and commenced by treating her foot with kisses. Ah, that petite thing, how endearing it was with those delicate toes; much smaller than the clunky footwear suggested… Gradually advancing up the shin, he peeled off the trouser leg by unraveling the seam. The fluffy hair growing upon the lower leg tickled his cheek as he caressed the supple but well-muscled flesh, contrasting with the smooth, warm bliss of her inner thigh. By the time he reached a tender area close to her mound, the trouser leg had been reduced to a flap of fabric barely clinging to the waistline. Thereafter, he licked long, slow lines from the middle of her thigh up to her opening, and coaxed her not to buck by stroking her hooded bud every now and then. The whimpering princess had begun dripping honeydew onto the workbench; she had closed her eyes, and her luscious bosom heaved every time he provoked her a little more. 

All this time, Hordak had endeavored to stamp down his own arousal and concentrate on her. Still he sought this, but oh,  _ oh _ , how his loins burned and his shaft twitched in its restraints, pushing against the fabric stretched almost till the point of rupturing. Then again Entrapta, that sneaky little genius, had decided to mimic some of his cajolery by invading the privacy of his robe and beginning to stroke his thighs with her hair. He groaned into her yielding flesh while attending to her other leg. Perchance she now lay ready for a more straightforward contact. She clearly desired him to enter her, hence-

Well. Of course other ways to deter her from writhing about subsisted... He whisked aside the remnants of her garb, took a firm hold of her other thigh with one hand, and posited a hefty arm across the other and her midriff, securing the princess fast against the workbench. Therewith, he brought his tongue to her drenched slit, and licked a few times from her opening up to her little nub before venturing in. Due to the length and size of his tongue, he was able to wriggle it effortlessly deep into her, till he hit an obstruction. 

The inconceivable softness and the intoxicating fragrance of her arousal made his head swirl, her entrancing moans a spellbinding melody in his ears. She trashed and babbled beneath his hold, breathy fragments of his name bouncing off the walls of the Sanctum, as he drove his tongue in again and again, caressing the velvety flesh within. So high-strung had his precious treasure already been, that she vaulted quickly over the edge of her climax, and flooded his mouth with her nectar. Her back arched and spasms riddled her legs, as her inner walls contracted around his tongue. The sensations were...otherworldly; her insides sucked on his tongue, the inebriating aroma overwhelming as he lapped up the juices of her climax. 

When the contractions had abated some, he halted for a moment, and bent over her tiny frame. It was cumbersome for him to conceptualize that he, a defected abomination fallen from the grace of his God, had just unlocked the gates of paradise for someone. “Oh, look at you, my sweet Princess... All curled up in pleasure,” he exhaled against her neck. “We shall have another go, now. I must moisten you up well.” 

He resumed his position, fondling the hooded little bud and the inside of her heated core in turn. Likewise, it did not require long for Entrapta to resume her squirming in his clasp, her eyes closed and mouth agape, gasping. Mayhap the occasion finally called for some probing and stretching? 

Hordak was about to slip a thick finger into her, when the inauspicious disposition of his keen claws fully dawned on him. He-  _ He could not _ \- Bloody damnation; he would unequivocally nullify the careful attempts at soothing her, and the entire extraction of the splinters, if he-

Had he been graced with a prescient glimpse into the future, he might have been able to prepare for this instant. File a claw or two harmless, so as to be able to sink his digits into her very vulnerable softness, court her along the proper protocols… A hurricane of fates had hurtled them together, and now he was gratifying her on a hard, metallic table after a laboratory casualty. 

Had he perhaps...overreckoned her...capacities of volume and receptiveness as well? This intimate moment merely underscored how grotesquely large he was compared to her in every feasible aspect.

Frowning, he glanced about for a stroke of ingenuity. He could not deprive her of this hour of bliss now, not after her lamentations and his nigh bombastic promises. Ascertaining her capability to receive him was a must: lengthwise in sooth not all the way in, but if she might accommodate at least some of his thickness...

His gaze swept past the container encasing the portal insulator rods from the previous day, and veered back in an instant. Hordak cocked one quizzical brow ridge at the objects. He could not...well,  _ could _ he? Sanitary and dustless, they awaited insertion into one of the most delicate units of the portal apparatus. The smooth, rubbery substance should yield enough, and the slightly incurvated form ought to elicit no adverse sensations either... He might harbor dubieties about sending a signal to his God, however if the rods might facilitate the opening of another kind of portal for him... 

The warlord felt Entrapta’s fingers combing through his hair, an anxious trill in her voice as she inquired, “Hordak? What-”

“Shush, you little thing. Recline back down,” he intoned, the last withdrawal’s culmination into hysterical sobbing all too fresh in his mind. Even after all his suasions, she yet wavered? Well...mayhap these matters required time to mature, before incorporating themselves fully into one’s confidence. 

Hordak retrieved the container and tore the lid off its hinges with one yank, leering toothily at the ad-hoc substitutes for his digits. Oh, indeed, the variety of sizes would function splendidly; he even discerned one approximating his shaft’s girth within. On the upcoming morning, he would hunt down an automated, heavy-duty filer with the aid of tracker bots if necessary and sacrifice one or two of his claws on the altar of adoration. In the meanwhile...

He first selected one the size of his finger and offered Entrapta a thicker one. “Lick and suck well on it for lubrication; I shall introduce it into you briefly,” he cooed at her. “I urge you to envision it as a portal experiment of a different ilk.” 

At that, her lugubriousness cracked into a giggly snort around the makeshift shaft that had already found its way into her mouth. Ah, how that spark of hilarity warmed his heart; the first of its kind since the previous day. As he moistened the smaller one himself and carefully slid it into her, his tongue finding her sweet spot again, she commenced greedily attending to the sturdier rod. A surge of envy for the inanimate object she was handling so avariciously soon welled forth from the dark netherworlds of his brain, where creatures of the night still crawled along walls and rent open jugulars. He felt like snarling at it; oh, that soft, moist mouth belonged around his own manhood, not that confounded caricature of a columnar configuration! 

Well, he would reassure that he ascended into that celestial sphere in due course... 

They continued thus for a while, the next rod appearing a tighter fit, yet her honey-vessel could still swallow more. As he gradually pushed in the last sample, closest to his girth, Entrapta contorted her body, her eyes squeezing shut and brow crinkling. The hand stroking his hair never left his scalp, yet her fingers dug into the skin in a manner unlike anything previous. 

He frowned at her evident discomfort. Was the circumference mayhap...too savage? Still, it did inch its way in, and she had not  _ verbally _ indicated that he ought to cease.

Then again, the princess could adopt such an obstinate disposition that she might, with enough exhortation, render a grey boulder talkative and squeeze a million-year biography complete with annotations out of it. Well...perhaps he could attempt a different tactic on the tiny pleasure-bud besides offering her a distraction. He could not concentrate whilst she bucked and hitched thus, irresolute as to whether she felt pain or satisfaction. 

Therewith… Oh,  _ oh _ how he longed for more of her… His barren heart, starved for love and cherishments, did guttle up the omnipresent caress of her hair and fingers upon his body. Yet her pliable softness whispered constantly of far more toothsome delights he had barely nibbled at...

Hordak moved the princess around on the workbench, so that her visage faced his crotch, and tucked a cushion underneath her head. Brushing aside the front of his robe and tearing away the straining undergarments, he ultimately decided to unleash his manhood for her to play. 

Her mouth and eyes transformed into three nearly perfect O’s of astonishment at the sight. Well...Hordak had never been able to determine whether Horde Prime had modified his DNA in a manner diverse to the other clones in preparation for something. Whatever had occurred during God’s unsuccessful day of creation, abhorrent grotesquities and other secondary features had been introduced into his essence. Perhaps suppressed genes belonging to Hordak’s original species had been reactivated by accident or on purpose, perhaps something downright unorthodox had been embedded into his chromosomes. Whether his shaft fell into either division remained a mystery.

Her stare tracked the long, sinuous organ up and down, as it squirmed on its own first to one side, coiled back in on itself and then curved upwards, as if seeking for something in the vicinity. It resembled a cross between a tentacle and the average Etherian phallic shape; he possessed no spermatic extensions, but the girth of his shaft increased considerably towards the base. A series of slight ridges ran along the length of both the top and the bottom sides, while the head tapered after a distinct flare. 

Oh, how her sultry, wet mouth was so invitingly open… And she did gain satisfaction from him placing objects into it… Wherefore she detested larger portions of food, yet allowed him this privilege, he could not fathom. 

He decided to plunge his shaft in. In his fervent desire to fill her, however, he thrust it rather further in than intended, only to heed to the squirmy motions in a belated manner. Entrapta, then again, grabbed the length upon the very instant, and began pleasing him as if her life depended on it. He panted and groaned, as her hot tongue swirled around the sensitive head, her strong hand stroking the length up and down with a firm hold, even if her fingers could not reach all the way around. Her attendance appeared to tame the beastly phallus to an extent: The squirming calmed down to a wavelike wriggle. 

The sensations were...paradisiac. An inferno flared up within him, dimming the world all about. Her heated flesh and sumptuous moistness seemed everywhere at once, engulfing him, consuming him alive. He had to stamp a harsh iron sabaton down upon the urge to sink his member much deeper into her, and pursue pounding into her mouth until he discharged everything within. 

Still, his rational mind seemed to exist in a different universe, as he swore and drawled down to her with a deep, hoarse rumble, “Ahh...yes...splendid. Rrrhaah… Suck on it well and zestily, my nectarous little delicacy, and you shall be rewarded with such gratification that you will be writhing atop the table in a prolonged climax for an hour after I have spilt my seed deep within you...” A flush spread on her cheeks, yet she doubled her efforts on the shaft, making him nearly roar. 

“Mmmh… An esurient little succulency you are, are you not? Rrrrhhh… Hastening thus to the very opportunity...”

Therewith, Hordak lifted up her legs, pinned them together at the knees, and brought them downwards to allow him uninterrupted access to her drenched folds. His size permitted him to bend over her effortlessly while maintaining a firm grip on her legs and hips. He placed his lips around the epitome of her pleasure and began suckling and pulling on it. After a moment, never ceasing to attend to the nub with his full vigor, he continued pushing the insulator rod in. It sunk amply into her slick heat, and again and again, as he introduced speed into his movements.

Entrapta attempted to writhe beneath him, his shaft in her mouth muffling the moans considerably rising in pitch and volume. He snarled and groaned into her slit, as he began thrusting his hips back and forth, shoving his organ deeper into her, voiding at least in part his previous attempts to restrain such impulses. Yet the princess pursed her lips slightly around the shaft and received as much of him in as she might, stoking the beastly conflagration within him. 

“Rrraaahhh...You desire it so profoundly into your soaked orifice, do you not? Filled to the very brim with it...haaahghrrrh...” 

He accelerated his movements, plunging the rod in again and again, accompanied by wet, squelching sounds, his tongue a lashing force of nature between her folds. She began grinding her center against his face, whining incognizable nonsense behind his heavy manhood. When she climaxed ferociously after a few more pushes, she sprayed her juices everywhere and wound up into a little, quivering ball when he released her. 

Rather out-of-breath himself, the warlord sat on the edge of the workbench for an instant, brushing sweaty hair off from his eyes. He lifted up the princess into his embrace and cradled her against his chest till the intense orgasm faded, whispering endearments into her hair. When she elevated her head a smidgen, he offered her some water; clearly the moment begged for rehydration. 

B-by the light of… He had never expected her to... _ explode _ akin to that. He might growl lewd depictions of her blacking out in rapture into her skin, but- Then again, those unreined obscenities spilling from his maw when his heat flared up shocked him perhaps quite as much. He furthermore realized that his own arousal might not endure for very long, if subjected to such a convulsive rush of excitement. Not in that already very tight, juicy receptacle. He found the notion disagreeable, yet if he sought to prolong her contentment, he would need to pull out when her inner walls indicated even a mite of fluttering before an impending climax. 

Furthermore...did she verily... No, indeed, trammeling her range of free movement somehow heightened her satisfaction. Had she detested his ministrations, she could have hurled him across the Sanctum, hefty armor and all, with the inhuman strength of her hair.

“Hordak...I want you inside me...” a faint mumble from his arms uttered. 

So did he, so did he... 

He laid the princess back onto the thin cushions, and spread her legs wide. His shaft squirmed and arched to either side, thirsting to experiment with that portal of pleasure. He let it slide slowly into her drenched, velvety core, the tapering head aiding advancement as the increasing thickness pursued. Her hand flew to her mouth, trying to stifle a lusty whine as his manhood undulated within her, the slight ridges rubbing against her inner walls. When fully in, the peculiar movements altered to something much milder and satisfying for both counterparts, as if the overeager sword ultimately recognized its rightful sheath and presumed to remain within. After all the teasing and preparation, she was just about capable of receiving a decent amount of his length. Groaning at her refulgent heat and tightness, he began thrusting into her with slow, steady strokes. 

“Oh, H-Hordak… It feels so...good, it’s so huge and hot inside me-” Entrapta squeezed her eyes shut, and bit her knuckles, as her moans threatened to louden further. 

With a sonorous baritone chuckle, Hordak pulled her hand out of her mouth and ensnared her arm against her side. “Oh no, no, Entrapta. I wish to heed all of your...mrrraaahhh...mellisonant mewls and moans when I dwell within your secret garden, and quench my thirst with ambrosia from your fountain of delights.”

Her breath hitched at his words. “I- W-what if someone hears? Th-”

He grinned at her impishly. “Well...I shall allow them consent to witness how Lord Hordak, Warmaster and Ruler of the Fright Zone, pleases his Lady.”

In spite of Entrapta’s flush of rapture, a deeper shade of crimson spread on her cheeks. 

“Oh no, do not pretend you did not absorb that which circumstantially wormed its way into Force Captain Grizzlor’s salutation, not to mention that Squad Leader... I must admit to being slightly befuddled as to how this rumor has eluded my ears for so long, my...Lady. Mmmmh...what a scrumptious flavor that sound has upon my palate…” 

He bent down, licked a long trail from her breast all the way up to her jaw, cupped the back of her head and neck with one hand, and brought his mouth against hers. He did not quite compass the purpose of fastening jaws together, when he might utilize his tongue and lips on so many other erogenous zones instead. However, if his beloved felt elsewise... Hence, upon contact, he slid his tongue within to massage hers, while pushing into her core with increased vigor. The princess responded with feverish passion, desireful of satisfying him in equal measures; she wrapped her legs around his hips and rocked hers against him along the rhythm of the independent longitudinal, wavelike motion of his shaft to receive him deeper. After a moment, he released her, and continued licking her tender skin along her jawline and down her neck. 

Oh, if they merely had found one another weeks or months ere this, in less lugubrious circumstances... 

Hordak wanted to treat her to a less rugged surface upon which to recumb, and where she might unwind after one of her tumultuous leaps over a mountaintop. The podlike construction within his private chambers he colloquially named ‘bed’, and where he slept in a forty-five-degree angle, served poorly for such purposes. He furthermore remained undecided about revealing everything to her. 

She might of course support herself with her hair...yet could he not bloody damn well as the Lord of the dominion enrich the comfort of his dearest with anything better than a scratched desk? She, who merited the rarest treasures of the multiverse, those that even gods could not attain... He-

His gaze hit the illuminated throne towering behind Entrapta. Well…those cushions selected for his ponderosity did yield ampler softness… Hordak hoisted her up and against him, her legs persistent around his hips and his manhood seated well within her. Entrapta whimpered into his robe, as his alien shaft, acting independent of its master’s will, continued lazily thrusting itself upwards and undulating within her.

“Mmmf…fascinating…” 

Hordak ascended the stairwell with somewhat shaky steps, as surprised as the princess at his anatomical curiosities. “I...rrraahhhh...was not cognizant of that feature...ahaah-” 

“You’re...going to take me up to the throne? W-what if...someone...aah...wanders in?”

Hordak chortled into her hair, his voice oozing lust, “Then they shall...behold the Fright Zone and Dryl...united well and fast! Albeit, that scarcely matters after half of the...tower has given testimony to your...rrrraaahh...fulminating screams of ecstasy by now, rwahahahaha...”

Once they reached the throne, Hordak turned Entrapta about, so that she straddled his lap with her back against his chest. He had stood for a long while, meticulously tending to her, and welcomed the cushions himself with a groan of relief. He clasped the princess tight against his torso while she slowly rode him, her good hand partway round and stroking the excess of his shaft that could never fit into her heat. It seemed she could not master her prehensile hair that aptly during a state of exaltation, yet she continued caressing him however she might. He closed his eyes for a while, drifting upon a vast ocean of mellowness. Her tight, hot slickness gripped his shaft, massaging the sensitive organ from every direction. He could not fathom what deific entity had granted him this moment of otherworldly satisfaction, however on this very instant, he would gladly humble himself afore them, rather than his God’s austere dominance. 

Eventually, he deemed that Entrapta required some attention. Judging by her intensifying whimpers, she was soaring towards a transcendence of her own. He straightened his back, purring into her ear, “Mmmh, so intensely fain to please your Lord… Now...ride harder and circumrotate your lithesome hips for me whilst you bestride. Mmmmh. Yes, akin to that. Mind the arm, nevertheless.”

He began pushing his manhood faster into her while she provided the opposite and some lateral movements to turn the sensations vivider for both. One of his fingers slid between her folds, granting her little bud of pleasure firm, rapid strokes, while pulling on her nipples with the digits of his other hand. 

“Good, good; now, are you acquiescent to climax for me, my little treat? Thereafter, we shall explore your succulence from another perspective, and journey a mite deeper in...”

“Mmmffff...H-Hordak...ah-haah-” Whatever Entrapta had been about to state turned into incognizable, high-pitched squealing, as the strokes of his finger on her clitoris turned into a firm fluttering motion, his shaft pounding harder into her. He pulled out just before she screamed and convulsed. Nevertheless, this time he did not allow her a slow float back down into Etheria’s atmosphere from whatever empyreans she had reached. With a few swift movements, he placed her on her hands and knees upon the cushions, one arm supporting her upper body. He elevated her hips to a better altitude, and drove his tongue into her core even as she shuddered and contracted around him. He lapped up as much of her nectar as he might, continuing with long flicks from her sweet spot and back in as far as her center yielded. 

To his ever-so-slight disgruntlement, Hordak could not make her climax so soon again, and forewent his tongue-play. Nevertheless, even before her inner walls relaxed, he arched his frame over her, and mounted her from behind. The angle yielded him a more pervading access into her: His shaft fluctuated slightly within, the ridges along the length caressing her sensitive areas. As the princess whined and screamed in ecstasy, the savage brute commenced to loft up the gorge of his primordial estrus again, and he began penetrating her in a more fervent manner.

“Oh- oh- please...d-don’t stop…haaah- It’s f-filling me s-so well...I’m s-so stuffed-” As Entrapta needed not to support herself with her arms, her free hand wended its way into her mouth again.

“Hmm? Did I not state that I will not tolerate this...rrrhhhh...unbecoming conduct? My Lady is expressing disobedience,” he growled, fangs scraping against her bare shoulder. Before she could stifle a sound, he brought her good arm behind her back and trapped her between his massive bulk and the throne to the point that she could barely move an inch. “Furthermore, it has scarcely eluded my perception that you enjoy being restrained, you naughty little thing! Rrraaah- Do not seek to controvert this!”

“Mmmffff- I d-do...like it… Please, H-Hordak, e-enter me h-h-harder, deeper-”

He slowed down his thrusts to provoke her, his tongue trailing along said shoulder and up the side of her neck. “I am...persuaded to judge you did not refer to me in a befitting manner.”

“F-fuck...” she mewled. “Please, h-harder,  _ Lord _ Hordak!” 

“Mmmm splendid. I shall, indeed,” he cooed into her ear, nipping at the soft membrane. “So...rrrrhhh....earnest to have your sweet, tight hollow of dripping honeydew utterly claimed by me, are you not? Mmmrrrhhh, my Lady?”

“Y-yes, my Lord!  _ Please! _ ”

Hordak lifted her hips up a little more, and unleashed the primordial beast from its prison beneath all the repressed, carnal desire. He sucked and nibbled at her neck as he rammed into her, yet at the same time protecting her injuries by hampering all of her inevitable squirming. In another universe, their brilliant brains resolved complex lemmas and mathematical peculiarities of multidimensional space-time. Yet here, upon his throne, they were conjoined in a primal dance of longing and love, all restraint forgotten as ancient, animalistic urges overcame the higher mind. 

Grunts and growls and moans echoed throughout the Sanctum, her nectar and his fluids seeping out of her. They gasped in one another’s heady scents, rumbled and screamed out one another’s names, the chemistry of bodily secretions subjugating them further into frenzied passion. 

The princess did not prevail long, and neither did Hordak pull out when she orgasmed. Her tight inner walls viced him, rendering it impossible for him to hold back the culmination of his own rapture. Rasping fragmentary words of adoration into her neck, fangs and claws pressing into her flesh, he spilled himself deep into her, and continued pounding into her core till his manhood laxed.

Thereafter, he collapsed upon the cushions, the listless Entrapta sprawling across his lap, quivering and breathing raggedly. She was dribbling both her honey and his seed onto the representation of his eminence here upon Etheria; an offering on the altar of his own apotheosis. He was not a failure, he was loved and cherished, and he could make the one he adored sail through celestial spheres and reach the farthest, most resplendent galaxy at the very edge of the multiverse. 

The warlord felt utterly consumed, unwilling to shift from his position. To call him disheveled would have been an understatement: His makeup was smeared across his cheekbones and forehead from rubbing against Entrapta’s skin, his chin sticky from her fluids, and the front of his robe damp from their combined secretions spilt over dried blood. Dents marred the left side of his armor, and the fabric of his cloak had torn in multiple places. Yet it was the best he could muster for his tender little beloved at the moment, as he wrapped the garment around her quivering frame and enfolded her into his arms. Some mischievous portion of his mind nearly hankered for some hapless Force Captain to stomp in, and pour pulpy content into those rumor-vessels till they overflowed. Lord and Lady of the Fright Zone, making love upon the throne...

He could not...he absolutely could not return to an existence without Entrapta, that doleful gloom fraught with hard surfaces and ascetic emptiness. Not after drinking in such immense softness and tolerance. At any rate, he would need to re-evaluate quite a range of his life-aspects based on the veritable earthquake of a day that had shattered and twisted the pillars of the harsh principles he had imposed upon himself. 

He lowered his gaze to her; one thumb had been absently stroking her cheek, as she nestled against him with her eyes closed. A golden glow graced her beauteous visage, her sleek hair almost shimmering in the column of light washing over the throne. Hordak sighed, and undid the bands securing her pigtails. Her hair spilled unrestrained across the seat and he ran his fingers through the silken strands, respiring in her scent and reveling in her very essence. He continued stroking and caressing the princess, till she stirred in his embrace. 

After a while, Entrapta peered languorously up at him through the dissolving mist of rapture. It had required her a while to shrug off the aftermath of her hard climax. He unfolded the cloak a smidgen, and scrutinized the cast and its attachments. All seemed well. Percance him constraining her had served a double purpose: granting her satisfaction and protecting the arm. He had not expected the intercourse to transform into such a tempestuous affair, yet had not his predictions for the day dissolved already early on?

Furthermore...did he have to buckle under the tripe those addlepated romance-booklets contained? Entrapta had not been rescued from the clutches of a vampiric monster, but...bloody well everything else had followed the asinine narrative. Bah. So much for all that  _ courting _ . 

Ah well. It weighed rather more in the scales of fates that they _had_ found one another, rather than the means of achieving it. 

He grinned down at her, full rows of fangs on display. “Now… Did that foment you in a way condign? Have you cast away your doubts and bewailments?”

“Mmmh…” She smiled into his robe, and wove her hair around him; an encirclement as inclusive as his around her.

“You might have to...carry me around tomorrow, though. I...I don’t think I’ve ever had anything that huge driven into me, and so...wildly.”

“I shall do that in a manner beseeming a Princess. Albeit...” Hordak cocked a brow ridge. “I am indisposed to accept reproach for the latter. Who incisively was pleading  _ whom _ to mount them in a more rampant manner?”

“Pffff…still, it was you who did it! Although, I must make a thorough scientific study of that faa-ascinating thing! The way it moves! Is it sensing certain protein structures or chemicals in a female’s vaginal lubrication in order to alter its motions when it’s in? The sheer size! What-”

He lifted up her chin with one claw, smirking. “Shall we investigate a mite more come the subsequent morntide? Hmm? Now...what would you prefer as a replacement for your raiment? I am capable of reinstating some of it, yet-”

This time, she outright snorted and giggled against his chest. “I’m going to need a pocket dimension of my own for a wardrobe, if you’re going to claw everything off like that every time we have a moment together!”

“Whosoever gainsays I shall not proceed to do exactly that?” He tickled her a little beneath the chin, and bent down to kiss her cheek. 

Entrapta responded by sliding her hand up his visage and angling her mouth over his. She seemed more prepared to receive his tongue in, and he fondled hers slower, milder, now that the tumultuous vortex of passion had ebbed. 

Hordak would address the deprecation or alterment of the portal project after Entrapta’s injuries had mended with success. In the meanwhile...they indeed possessed ample time to explore one another. Even now the warlord was loath to relinquish her, in spite of the inevitable necessity for ablutions and clean, intact garments. 

They finally let their tongues disentangle, and Entrapta settled into the crook of his arm, replete and consumed by the few, measly hours that felt akin to a year. 

“Would you...” she began, a little vacillant, her good hand tracing the contours of his chest. 

“Mmh, my heliacal little nymph?”

“I...” A bubbly string of giggles burst from her lips before she could continue her proper query. “I’m not quite sure what that means, but I like the sound of it! Anyway...would you...share a bed with me during the following night? At least try? I’m not used to sleeping next to a real person myself, but...”

“But you feel lonely,” the warlord continued for her. “Indeed, I gathered as much from your lamentations. My arrangements of recumbency are befitted to my peculiarities; nonetheless I shall see what I can do to fulfill your wishes.” 

Content, she mumbled something into his robe, as he threaded his claws through her hair. After a few minutes of tranquility and mellow caresses, the exhausted princess drifted off into the realms of slumber. He smiled down at her with fondness, before reclining back against the cushions and closing his own eyes. 

No God or doctrine would prevent him from loving this charitable, ravishing genius, her lucific essence a guiding light in the crepuscularity of his weary soul. His...Lady. 

Nothing would prevent him. Never. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for following this story! Please consider leaving a comment.  
> I'm planning to write more Entrapdak fics, so stay tuned, if you enjoyed the style of writing. You can also find me on [Tumblr](https://kuurankaiho.tumblr.com/), where I post my drawings and the occasional nerdy content.


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